


A Queer Feeling with Regard to You

by deathwishes



Category: Fall Out Boy, Jane Eyre - Fandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, frerard - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- Jane Eyre, Alternate Universe- No Band, Asshole Gerard Way, Boarding School, Bullying, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Eventual Romance, Frerard, Gay, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Innocence, Jane Eyre - Freeform, Jealousy, Loneliness, Loss, M/M, Minor Character Death, Modern Retelling, Mutual Pining, Pining, Protective Gerard Way, Secret Relationship, Self Confidence Issues, Sexual Tension, Teen Frank Iero, Tutoring, my chemical romance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2018-10-04 04:19:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10268102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwishes/pseuds/deathwishes
Summary: Mr. Way is a rich, haughty man with a dark secret. Frank is barely seventeen with no friends to speak of and no family who will claim him. When Frank's school sets him up with a job tutoring Mr. Way's adopted son, Frank begins to unravel the mysterious Gerard Way. Frank, caught between his feelings and his morality, realizes he may not like what he uncovers about Gerard's past.(A modern-day Jane Eyre-style Frerard fic, with a few twists.)





	1. For all the Ghosts that are Never Gonna Catch Me

Frank’s mother was a beautiful woman, with long hair and a soothing, soft voice. She used it to sing to him every night as he was falling asleep. He used to run his small fingers through her dark hair as he lay there, cradled in her arms on the bed they shared. He would count the freckles on her shoulders, if there was moonlight enough through the small window, or he would just close his eyes and let his mind drift, her voice constant and calming in his ear.

He was only three and a half when she died, right after his father. There had been a car crash, a pile up on a state highway, injuring many drivers. Mr. Iero had died instantly, but it seemed like Frank’s mother, Linda, would pull through. Unfortunately, she died four days later at the hospital, a victim of negligence it would seem as the doctors failed to diagnose an internal injury that claimed her life.

They had left Frank at home with a sitter as they were on their way to volunteer for the day at a neighboring city’s homeless shelter that needed repairs. The last memory Frank had of his mother was of her in a hospital gown, awake but barely there, devastated at the news of her husband’s death. She had loved him immensely, marrying the poor activist against her parents’ wishes. Her father had gone so far as to write her out of his will, and had refused to attend the wedding. He died never meeting his grandson or seeing his daughter again.

When Frank’s parents passed, it was his uncle Reed, his mother’s brother, who stepped up to care for the boy. He had always been very fond of his sister, and was heartbroken at the family feud, though too timid to try to repair the ties with her and their father. Frank always imagined he felt guilty that he fell out of touch with his sister, and that’s why he took his small nephew in.

Regardless, the man was very kind to Frank, always treating him like one of his own children, if not better. He would take days off from work at his father’s company just to spend more time with Frank, obviously seeing his sister in the boy, as there was a strong family resemblance. His wife, Sarah, had naturally bitter feelings towards her nephew, as she saw her husband was not as fond of her children from a previous marriage, who were several years older than Frank.

Mr. Reed fell ill when Frank was only five. He had developed prostate cancer, and having an aversion to doctors, it was not caught until it was too late for any type of treatment to have an impact. He died several months after the diagnosis, leaving Frank again with no loving parental figure and alone with his Aunt Reed and three cousins, John, Elizabeth, and Georgia.

The children hated Frank, for no apparent reason other than he was small and often sick— an easy target. Aunt Reed, as she forced Frank to call her, hated him because he was the burden her husband had left her as well as the one Mr. Reed had called out for on his deathbed. This left Frank unprotected from his cousins’ near-constant bullying, since no adult could be bothered to intervene. The children’s nanny, Bessy, harbored no ill-will for Frank, but since he was often unwell it was troublesome for her to care for him, so she did not like him particularly, either. Besides, though she saw the mistreatment his cousins forced on him, Sarah Reed was her employer and she was not paid to rat out Mrs. Reed’s biological children. She knew she would quickly be out a job if she were to adopt an attitude of justice. So, she kept her head down and though she never neglected Frank, she was not one to stand up for him either.

By the time Frank was ten, he had learned to hide out in the library, a room in which his cousin John, his main antagonist, could not be paid to enter. He often spent long hours pouring over a book of exotic birds, an animal that fascinated him. One rainy afternoon, though, John did enter the library, looking for trouble.

The children had all gotten home from school an hour ago and were waiting for dinner to be served. Elizabeth and Georgia were sitting in the living room with Bessy, doing their homework. John, who was four years Frank’s elder, had long ago stopped paying attention in his classes, so left with some downtime, he went to seek some excitement.

Frank was curled up behind the long curtain in the window sill that he was still small enough to use as a reading nook. He was a studious child and was so engrossed in his own homework, he didn’t hear the door open or John enter the room. He was recovering from a cold and let out a string of sneezes which in turn gave away his hiding place to his older cousin. John immediately crossed the room and tore back the curtain, revealing a very startled, sniffling Frank.

“There you are, you little rat! In my library!” He cried out angrily.

“It’s hardly your library,” Frank answered back sternly, for he had hardened with age and was never one to go down without a fight. Unfortunately, being quite small for his age, his wit was the only weapon he had. “I doubt you can even read and I know you’ve never picked up a single book from these shelves.”

“Think you’re smart, don’t you, Frances? Your books won’t help you now!” John picked up Frank’s Social Studies textbook from the window ledge and used it to hit Frank over the head. The corner of the book caught Frank’s temple and sliced open his forehead.

Frank screamed and lunged at John, adrenaline running through his body and causing him to react more violently than usual. He pushed the older boy until they were both on the floor, wrestling, where Frank managed to get several good punches in. The door flew open and Georgia was standing in the doorway, her sister Elizabeth close behind.

“Mother! Mother!” Georgia shrieked and the girls turned and ran out, presumably to get help.

In seconds, Bessy entered the room and pulled Frank off of his cousin, having to restrain him with all her strength. “Heavens, Frank! What has gotten into you? Calm yourself down!” She continued to struggle to keep him still while John, who had righted himself, snuck in a kick to Frank’s shin.

Several sets of footsteps could be heard scampering towards the library, though, so John threw himself back on the ground and began to wail. “Mother! Save me! Frank is an animal! Look, Mother, he’s attacked me!” John sobbed and beat his arms and legs against the floor.        Frank scoffed as his actual wound seeped blood down his face.

Mrs. Reed sauntered in with her two girls. “What has he done?” she demanded of Bessy.

“Well, I ran in here to find him on top of John, Ma’am,” Bessy replied honestly, still gripping Frank’s shoulders.

Mrs. Reed curled her lip in disgust. “What a beast of a child. Take him to the red room, Bessy!” She said and spun around and walked away. Once she was gone, John again regained his health very quickly and began to snicker at Frank. Frank kept his composure until Bessy had marched him up the stairs and to the edge of the hall, using one hand to keep Frank by her side and another to fetch the key for the locked door from her pocket.

Frank started to cry quietly. “Please, Bessy. Not the red room. Please.” He was a pitiful sight and Bessy seemed to soften a bit.

“Frank, I don’t want to. I’m sorry. If you wouldn’t get yourself into fights so often with your cousins. If you would just behave and be respectful, your life could be very good, Frank.” She unlocked the door and walked Frank inside the room. He only sobbed softly as she sat him down on the bed.

“I’ll come for you in an hour. That should be long enough,” Bessy said simply and left, locking the door from the outside.

Frank immediately got up and threw himself against the door, yelling after her. The room he was captive in had been his late uncle’s and the rumor was that it still was. Many a housekeeper had quit on the spot after cleaning that room, claiming spirits lingered there. Now, the room was kept locked and only Mrs. Reed ever went in to tidy up, and rarely at that. It was still exactly the way Mr. Reed had left it when he died.

After a good half-hour of crying. Frank had sunk down, back against the door. The room had grown dim as the weather worsened, and the deep red color of most of the room’s furnishings and walls made the interior seem even more gloomy. Still, the young boy took hope in the fond memories he had of his uncle, hoping that his ghost would be equally kind to Frank and let him be.

Frank was nearly asleep when a loud clap of thunder woke him up. Several more bellowed in the sky and then a strike of lightning hit nearby and illuminated the room. Frank’s eyes, already fixed in the direction of the bed, beheld a glowing figure lying down on top of the covers. In a flash, the room was dark again and he could not see.

He screamed and began beating against the door, shouting Bessy’s name. Moments later, he heard the door handle start to unlock and turn, and Bessy was opening the door. He clutched at her waist, bawling.

“Sorry, Frank. I’ll admit I forgot you were in there. It was quiet downstairs without you. Come on, it’s nearly bedtime. I’ll make you some toast so you don’t go to bed on an empty stomach. Quiet now,” she scolded when he was still crying. “Remember what I told you, behave yourself!”

Frank sniffed as Bessy closed the door and led him down the stairs. He was able to quiet himself quickly because he knew this was not the worst he had been through in his ten years. The memories of his parents, though distant, haunted him much more than any real ghost. He felt a small amount of pride in that he was able to conquer many things other children his age had not yet encountered. It’s unlikely he would be so optimistic, though, if he knew what the upcoming weeks held in store him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm really excited to be writing this. Jane Eyre is one of my favorite books and Frank Iero is one of my favorite people. I hope this mixes well. I do plan to stick to the original story pretty closely, especially with Jane-Mr. Rochester/Frank-Gerard encounters, so if you're a fan of the book you should appreciate that! Also, I haven't found any other stories exactly like mine, so I don't think I'm stealing anyone's idea on this one.  
> Update schedule will be a bit irregular, but not infrequent. I'm a full-time student and will soon be working again, so I have to work around those things to write. I really appreciate comments and kudos- they definitely serve as encouragement to write faster, lol.  
> I really just hope you like this and thank you so much for reading this far.


	2. When Every Star Fall Brought you to Tears Again

Not long after the incident in the red room, Mrs. Reed pulled Frank out of school. He had been attending at the nearby private academy with his three cousins and the wealthier third of the city they lived in. Frank sat home for a week and watched his cousins get up and walk to school and return each day. He wasn’t sure why he was being kept at home, but he knew something was up by the way Bessy and the other hired help whispered when they thought he was out of earshot.

                Knowing whatever the situation was it was out of his control, Frank tried to keep to himself and out of his aunt’s way. However, Mrs. Reed was constantly yelling at Frank for hovering around her or looking at her in an odd way. Frank eventually took to just looking at the ground and listening for her footsteps so he could leave the room she was about to enter. Still, nothing seemed to help and it was a miserable week on top of a boring one.

                On the Monday of the second week, Mrs. Reed called Frank into her personal sitting room. She was holding a letter and beckoned Frank closer so he could see it. He made out a few words before she folded it back up. In fancy text at the top of the page was: Lowood Educational Institute for Boys.

                “I’ve enrolled you in a boarding school for troubled boys,” his Aunt Reed said simply.

                “Why, Aunt? I am not troubled,” Frank answered back sourly.

                “You most certainly are. It pains me even to look at you— that’s how troubled you are,” She began to fan herself with the folded letter as she watched her nephew, daring him to speak out.

                “Then I am troubled, if you say so, Aunt Reed. I’m troubled by you,” He shot back.

                “I don’t know at all why you would be. I have given you a home and food and care for your ten years. Now I am giving you a proper education tailored to your specific needs. Where would you be without me, Frank? Certainly not of clear mind.”

                “I’d rather ask the question: where would I be if Uncle Reed were alive? Do you want to know the answer, Aunt?” Frank taunted, angry that his aunt could make such claims about a nephew she despised.

                “Insolent brat!” She cried out. “Bessy!”

                Bessy appeared quickly, as though she  had been just outside, perhaps listening in. “Yes?”

                “Please take Frank up to his room and help him pack. He leaves at five tonight. You’ll tell Rob to take him to the station?” Mrs. Reed stood up and walked across the room, away from Frank, as though the short distance would make him disappear.

                “Of course. Come on, Frank. I’ll help you pack up your things,” Bessy reached her hand out to Frank, who took it begrudgingly.

                Packing his belongings was no long task, it was done within half an hour. Most of the toys he had in his room were actually John’s old or broken ones and he was not permitted to take them. He wouldn’t be needing many of his own clothes as Lowood had a uniform they would provide him. He was allowed to take his favorite bird book from the library, though he imagined that Bessy hadn’t asked Mrs. Reed for permission. Maybe she felt for him, after all.

                Five o’clock came and Frank was on his way to the train station and then on his way to Lowood Institute. He’d barely had a chance to say goodbye to his home before being rushed out the door by Rob, Mrs. Reed’s driver and errand boy. He didn’t miss his aunt’s home or her company, though, and was not sad to be leaving it. He was nervous, of course, but not anxious. He was not loved by his aunt or her children and so it was hardly like leaving family or even friends.

                He wondered what his new school would be like and if he would make any friends. Sadly, at his old school John was considered to be a popular boy and had convinced the rest of the school to regard him as a leper. He was almost excited to be going away if only so he could make some new acquaintances. At home, the housekeepers were the closest thing he had to friends and they only told him a joke now and then. He hadn’t yet known true companionship and was looking forward to the possibility of some at this new chapter in his life.

                Whatever it was he was expecting, though, was not what Lowood Educational Institute for Boys turned out to be. It was a school, yes, a very old one with separate dorms and buildings on a campus. There were students, yes, and teachers and textbooks on shelves. What seemed to be lacking Frank wasn’t quite able to put into words.

                The days were long as the boys rose very early for a breakfast of toast and butter on weekdays and toast and eggs on weekends. The classes took up a mere four hours of the day and the rest was sectioned off into yardwork, quiet reading time, inside chores, track, and chapel. The day ended at eight p.m. with a dinner of ham and gravy and a choice vegetable of the day, followed by a five minute shower time and lights out.

                Frank stayed in this routine rather quietly for the first two weeks. He had not made even one friend. He was used to being alone, but being alone at this boarding school was somehow worse. Before, he was isolated. Now, he was surrounded by nearly five-hundred potential friends yet not a one would even speak to him other than to reprimand him if he wasn’t running fast enough during track or looking somber enough during chapel.

                One day, after he had finished his quiet reading hour and was going outside for his period of yardwork, he decided he had had enough. There were a group of boys who were bypassing the strict no-chatter rule of work time and had gathered in a corner of the campus joking around with one another. Frank walked up to them, intending to join them and make friends. They were all about his age, maybe some a few years older than him. He figured regardless of their different stories, each had something in common with Frank; they were thrust into the neglectful hands of Lowood and expected to be grateful. Having at least this small bit of common ground, Frank felt he should fit in to some extent with any group of boys here at the school.

                Unfortunately, things didn’t go quite as planned. Frank had nearly reached the boys in the corner when he tripped on a tree root he hadn’t noticed in his determination. He fell forward and right into the arms of an older boy. Both tumbled to the ground.

                The boy pushed Frank off of him and stood up, glaring at him. Frank was still slumped on the grass, looking up at him. He seemed much older at this angle, at least fourteen.

                “What the hell was that, you faggot? You stay the hell away from me!” he shouted at Frank, his finger pointed at him.

                His friends joined in and yelled at Frank, too. “Stupid fag!” and “Retard!” stung Frank’s ears. He backed away, still crouched on the ground. He flipped around and stood up and began to run away from their words. He hardly knew what they meant, but he knew they were bad. He began to cry against his better judgement, tears blinding his vision. He ran until he reached the fence of the property and flung himself under a tree there to sob.

                Before his yardwork time was complete, a teacher had stood him up and ushered him into a detention room for avoiding his work. The room was empty other than a teacher grading some papers and another student, but Frank hardly noticed. He continued to cry, not just for this current situation but for every injustice of his life. He was still crying when the detention was released after supper and he was marched to the showers to wash up before bed.

                As soon as his bare feet hit the tile floor, the older boys began to jeer at him again. They weren’t even any of the ones who had witnessed the incident earlier. It seemed like gossip traveled fast at the school. The younger boys were hurling out insults at Frank soon too, saying they didn’t want a faggot in the showers with them. Luckily when Frank went into the stall, they didn’t follow him and he was able to spend those brief minutes alone. When he turned his faucet off, most of the noise had stopped and the other boys had cleared out to their rooms for bed. Just one boy remained, sitting on the wooden bench between the rows of shower stalls.

                Frank braced himself for more harsh words, but the boy remained quiet. On closer inspection, Frank realized it was the same boy who had been in the detention room earlier. He pulled his towel around tighter and walked over to him.

                “Are you going to make fun of me, too?” He asked quietly.

                “No. I don’t get along with the other boys, either.”

                Frank took a chance and sat down next to him on the bench. “Why are you still in here? Won’t you get in trouble for being late?”

                “I think I could ask you the same thing,” the boy muttered at Frank, who held his palms up to show he meant no offense.

                “I just don’t feel like going back out to the dorms,” he sighed.

                The boy half-smiled at Frank. “Yeah, me neither.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't super care for this chapter, but it's still more of an introduction until more exciting things happen to Frank. This veered away from the original story line quite a bit, but hopefully I'll get as back on track as I can for a modern gay version, lol. Hope you enjoy, more interesting things to come, for sure, next chapter. I plan on making that one a lot longer as I'll have more time.


	3. Never Let Them Take the Light Behind Your Eyes

The boy’s name was Helena, after his father’s mother, and was subject to much ridicule because of this fact. He told Frank that the boys endlessly teased him. It went much further than that, though. The older boys had once held him down to “examine” him in the shower room, just to make sure he actually was a boy. Before Frank came along, he had been the sole object of disgust at the school by the students and teachers alike.

                It seemed here that the teachers were very much influenced by the opinions of their pupils. Many regarded Frank with a wary eye or a stern correction whenever he was near them. Frank soon learned to keep quiet around them and the other boys and to only let himself be happy around Helena, or Lenny, as he preferred to be called.

                The two were bonded very closely, though there were no romantic feelings between them. Frank was not yet eleven and Lenny only twelve. The thought never even crossed their young minds. That did not stop rumors from forming, though. The older boys started them and they soon trickled down to even the youngest students; seven and eight-year-olds were spitting slurs they didn’t understand at the friends when they passed by.

                At first, this didn’t bother the pair, since they were so happy to just have each other. It got worse and worse as time went on, though. Frank had been shoved into a locker or more than one occasion and Lenny had been questioned by the school dean about their involvement. Still, their friendship was not tested more than it could handle. The boys had so much in common that the torture only brought them closer together.

                Lenny had come to the school about two years before Frank. When his mother died, his father had sent him and his three sisters off to school far away. His sisters were in a school three hours away but were never given the opportunity to visit their brother. About once a month they were permitted to write to each other and Lenny cherished each page, keeping them in a small wooden box under his bunk.

                Frank told Lenny all about his own “family”. Even though Lenny didn’t get to see his sisters, Frank still felt jealous because he had a family that loved him. Frank just had Aunt Reed, and not even her anymore, really. When Frank confided in Lenny about this, Lenny got a very serious look on his face. After a moment of thought, his face lit up.

                “Frank, I got it!” His smile took up his whole freckled face.

                “What do you have?” Frank giggled back. Lenny’s smiles were contagious.

                “The answer! When we get out of here, you can just come and live with me and my sisters! We’ll all be a big family,” He threw his arms around Frank’s neck.

                Frank wasn’t convinced, though. “What if they don’t like me, Lenny? None of my relatives liked me back home,” he paused to brush a tear away. “There might be something wrong with me,” he whispered.

                Lenny immediately shook his head. “I like you, Frank. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you! You’re perfect! My sisters will love you. Charlotte is always saying how she wanted another baby brother to play with. And Maggie and Sarah would get another older brother to pick on them,” he laughed again. “It’ll work out great!”

                “Well how on earth will we get out of here, then, to start this family?” Frank raised his brows at Lenny.

                “We’ve just got to study harder, Frank. We can graduate early here. They have to let you go once you’ve graduated. If you work really hard at it, you can probably leave the same time as me!”

                Frank nodded happily. He would work as hard as he could to get out of this place. The temptation of having a real family that loved you back was too tantalizing to ignore. He would have to get out of here and live with Lenny. Right now didn’t matter to him anymore, he could study for hours extra a day.

                And so he did. Both of them did. After each period was over, they walked to the next with a book in hand. They weren’t bullied as much, either, because they were always tucked away in a corner practicing terms or learning a new language. Lenny knew a bit of French from his mother, and he began to teach some simple words and phrases to Frank. When you were in a high school grade level at the school, you had to take a language class. Frank was hoping he could test out of French to have more time to work on math, which was his weak point.

 

 

                Two years passed by and Frank and Lenny were in great shape. They had already began getting an A in every subject. Frank especially excelled in his classes and the teachers began to like him. Other students started to finally respect him, too. Lenny wasn’t doing as well in that social aspect, though. His teachers still didn’t care for him for some reason, and his classmates continued to pester him about his gender and appearance and supposed sexuality.

                Frank still stood up for Lenny, though, and never left his side. The boys knew not to mess with Lenny when Frank was around; his quick temper and strong sense of justice enabled him to be a worthy opponent to even the larger boys.

                One weekend, Frank was chosen to attend an art museum as a field trip for a few honor students. Sadly, Lenny wasn’t allowed to go with. He assured Frank he would be just fine without him, though, so Frank agreed to go. He was secretly very excited. His artwork wasn’t phenomenal, but he did definitely appreciate modern art and sculptures and besides that, he hadn’t been allowed to leave the campus in over two years.

                The group left on Saturday morning and spent the day surveying the art and a botanical garden nearby. Frank had an excellent time. They had eaten at this rather grimy family restaurant, but Frank’s French fries tasted like heaven compared to the usual grub at Lowood. They got a late start on the way back to school and didn’t pull through the gates until ten p.m.

                The boys were immediately sent off to bed. Frank didn’t mind because he and Lenny were in the same dorm. He couldn’t wait to wake him and tell him about his day. When he got to his room, however, he couldn’t find Lenny. He thought he might have gone to use the bathroom, but he couldn’t find him there, either. He wasn’t sure where else Lenny could be, so he decided to just wait a while and see if he would show up. At eleven, Frank finally fell asleep. He wanted to stay up until Lenny was back, but he was just so exhausted. Before he fell asleep, he reasoned that Lenny was probably in the nurse’s office, anyway. Sometimes he stayed in the sick room to avoid being harassed.

                Frank didn’t have reassuring dreams, though. He dreamt first that there was a large, steep canyon separating Lenny and him and try as they might, they couldn’t reach each other. Then, he envisioned a large whirlpool. Lenny was in the center, drowning. Frank couldn’t reach him from the edges, so he ventured in to try to save his friend. He started going under, too, and he woke up screaming.

                When he opened his eyes, he was not drowning, but in his dorm room. The sunlight was shining through the windows and all the other boys were already gone. There was a teacher, Mr. Toro, sitting on the bed next to Frank. His eyes were focused on the ground and he was fidgeting with his hands. He looked up when Frank screamed and seemed to jump a little.

                “It’s like you know,” he murmured under his breath.

                Frank didn’t catch what he said and just looked at him blankly, waiting for an explanation.

                “I’m here about Lenny,” Mr. Toro sighed.

                “Oh. Where is he? Is he feeling sick again?” Frank rolled his eyes. He wished Lenny would learn to stand up for himself.

                “I imagine he is, yes,” the man stopped fidgeting and looked at Frank directly.

                “Is he in the nurse’s office? I can go get him, if you want. I guess I woke up late. I’m sorry,” Frank said, starting to get out of bed.

                “No, hold on a minute, Frank,” Mr. Toro paused. “I told the other boys to let you sleep this morning. I wanted to talk to you alone.”

                “Okay, Mr. Toro,” Frank said nervously. “Well, here I am. What’s going on?”

                “Like I said, it’s about Lenny.” Frank’s stomach dropped suddenly. “When you were gone on your trip yesterday, he got into a little fight with some of the senior boys.”

                “No, he doesn’t get into ‘fights’ with them,” Frank said angrily, realizing Lenny might have been seriously hurt. “They kick him around for no reason. You have to know that!”

                “Frank, calm down. I wasn’t there to see it. All I know is he and four other boys were in the bathrooms on cleaning duty and there was an altercation. Someone found Lenny. He was pretty badly hurt.” Mr. Toro reached over to pat Frank’s arm, but he pushed him off. “He was taken to the hospital. That’s where he is now, Frank.”

                “I want to see him,” Frank said through gritted teeth. He couldn’t believe the school would let this happen.

                “I’m sorry, that isn’t possible. His father requested he have no visitors.”

                “His father doesn’t even love him! Why else would he leave him here to be beat up every day? I should have been here! He would have been safe if I stayed!” Frank started to cry loudly.

                “Frank,” Mr. Toro tried to take on a comforting tone. “Sometime these things happen and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop them.” Frank rolled his eyes. But Mr. Toro continued, “Lenny’s father cares about him very much. He says when Lenny recovers, he won’t be bringing him back to Lowood. He has to move for work soon, so Lenny and his sisters will be going with him. Doesn’t that make you feel better?” Mr. Toro attempted a smile.

                “No,” Frank spat. “He should be here with me. Where is he going?”

                “Germany, as far as I know. But I don’t know that much. Come on now, Frank, why don’t you get up and start the day?” Mr. Toro stood up and looked at Frank awkwardly for a moment, unsure if he should do anything else for the distressed boy. Eventually, he just turned and left.

                Frank stayed in bed and cried for another hour or so and no one came to get him. He felt so guilty that Lenny had been hurt so badly and he was beyond devastated that he was moving, and without saying goodbye. Frank’s heart hurt more than it ever had before. He didn’t understand why this had happened to him. He was only twelve. How much loss could one boy handle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the end of the next chapter, Gerard will be introduced. Don't worry, there will eventually be a romance plot line. And things eventually don't suck as much for Frank. Thanks for reading! Comment if there's anything you like/don't like so far!


	4. I Can See You Awake Anytime in My Head

The years passed slowly for Frank at first. He was a loner despite being well-liked. He wasn’t able to connect to anyone after Lenny. He kept his grades up and his head down. Eventually, things seemed to move faster, like a blur. Each day was the same routine, each week a copy, each month a repeat of the last. Soon, he was seventeen and on track to graduate a year and a half or so early.

                Teachers and staff at the school looked out for Frank. Mr. Toro, who he had grown to respect if not like, introduced him to a work study program the school offered early graduates. Frank’s aunt had made it clear that he did not have a home to come back to once he was done with Lowood, so he eagerly looked into the paid internship options available.

                One that specifically caught his eye was a private organization that partnered with the school to pair the graduates up with children who were struggling. They adapted the old-style concept of governesses for children to create a live-in tutor that could befriend as well as teach their young clients. Only the richest of families in the area used it, so there was a bit of a waiting list to get accepted into the prestigious program, but Mr. Toro said he would try to pull a few strings to get Frank in right away since he did so well in all of his classes.

                Before he knew it, it was November, just a month after he turned seventeen. He had completed all his credits early and was being allowed to enroll in the program sooner than the other teens. He was to be set up with the Way family, who he was told almost nothing about, other than that there was a nine year old boy named Bandit who he would be working with.

                It was the night before he was to leave for the Way mansion. Frank was curled up in his bed, willing sleep to come but still, after all these years, all he could conjure were the ghosts of the ones he loved. He had a faded picture of his parents that he clung to and he had memorized it now so that he no longer needed to pull it out to picture their faces. He even thought of his Uncle who had showed him kindness and, of course, his friend Lenny. He hadn’t heard from Lenny, though he hadn’t expected to. At first he waited for a letter or phone call or something, but after a while he realized Lenny had forgotten about him, he was sure. Why couldn’t he forget too?

\---

                The next morning after a restless night, Frank was ushered out of his room early. He had already packed up all his belongings yet again. Mr. Toro was assigned to give him a ride into the city and then a Mrs. Fairfax, apparently an assistant of Mr. Way’s, was set to pick him up there and drive him the rest of the way to his new home.

                Frank didn’t even have the stamina to be nervous, he was so tired. He quickly nodded off during his ride with Mr. Toro and consequently missed all the nice mutterings the older teacher had to say to his sleeping student. Still, it seemed the sentiment got its way across because Frank slept peacefully for once on the trip over and when he woke up, they were already downtown.

                Mr. Toro pulled his minivan over into a wayside next to a new, decked out SUV. Frank tried to peer into the windows but they were tinted. Mr. Toro got out and opened Frank’s door and the trunk to get his suitcase.

                Finally, a figure emerged from the neighboring vehicle. It was an older woman, maybe in her late fifties, dressed in a smart skirt and blazer. She immediately ran up to Frank and hugged him. He was quite taken aback.

                “Oh! It’s so good to meet you, Frank! I’m Mrs. Fairfax! You just call me Nan, though, honey!” She was overwhelmingly cheery. She took Frank’s suitcase and plopped it in her own backseat. Shaking Mr. Toro’s hand, she said, “Well, we best be off!”

                And with that Frank was in her SUV on his way to the Way’s.

                He finally felt alert enough to be extremely jittery about the whole situation. He had so many questions but couldn’t bring himself to ask any of them.

                “You sure are a quiet one, Frank Eyro,” Mrs. Fairfax commented on the drive back.

                “It’s Iero, ma’am,” Frank corrected softly. He was proud of his father’s name. “I’m just a little nervous, I’m sorry.”

                “Really, sweet pea, call me Nan. I’m like everyone’s aunt back at the house. About the house, let me give you a bit of a walk through for what you should expect. We’ve got a long drive to fill up with this morning traffic,” she smiled.

                Frank nodded to show he was listening.

                “Gerard, that’s Mr. Way, isn’t home much. He runs a foundation, one the late Mr. Way started, and often travels many months at a time to oversee his affairs and help on projects and such things we need not concern ourselves with. Don’t worry, though! There’s still plenty going on without him! Not to say he isn’t missed, of course, dear. He is a good man, a bit peculiar, but good. He’s a fair employer.”

                Frank wondered if that was code for Mr. Way being a stern old man and to stay out of his way when he was home. The word ‘fair’ wasn’t a very promising adjective.

                “Now, Bandit, that’s Mr. Way’s son. Well, sort of. His ward, I suppose. It’s a sticky situation. Bandit has lived with Mr. Way since he was seven, but he hasn’t adjusted very well to life here. That’s where you come in, Frank. We’re hoping you’ll help him fit in and focus more on school. Your teachers really talked you up. They said you graduated early, even. You do look quite young. How old are you, dear?”

                Frank worried his age might make him seem unqualified. “Seventeen.”

                “Oh, good! You’re still a boy, yourself, practically. You and Bandit will get along just fine!” She hummed. Frank let out a sigh of relief.

                Mrs. Fairfax used the last thirty minutes of their drive to talk about the house and the grounds. She described them modestly, but when they pulled into the gated drive, Frank was shocked. The house was an absolute mansion on acres and acres of landscape.

                “It’s marvelous!” he told Mrs. Fairfax honestly. She just smiled at him quietly, almost sadly, and helped him with his suitcase.

                A man came out to meet them at the door and Mrs. Fairfax introduced him as Bob, the groundskeeper. He took Frank’s bag inside and Mrs. Fairfax started to give him a quick tour of the yard.

                “Over here is a garden, not much now that it’s fall, but in spring it’s quite nice. Those trees over there open onto a little stream and a fenced orchard. Then all that woods is the Way’s, as well. It borders the whole back end of the property. I wouldn’t suggest walking through there, though. You can get lost so easily! Just stick to that little grove in the front yard, there’s plenty to explore and it’s all quite contained,” she explained.

                Frank was so excited to go and see it soon. It wasn’t exactly a little grove, it seemed to be several acres of foliage at least. And how nice would a little stream be! And fruit trees in the summertime! Frank hoped he’d be around long enough to taste those. The woods behind the mansion did seem quite daunting, though, that was to be sure.

                Finally, Mrs. Fairfax pulled him inside to show him the house. It really was quite massive, four stories and a basement. She didn’t show him in every room, but did give him a rundown of each floor. The first was the dining room, kitchen and parlor area which she said Mr. Way used to entertain on those rare occasions that he was home. The second floor was a living room and library/study, along with several guest bedrooms. The third floor had Mr. Way’s rooms and Bandit’s play area, bedroom, and school room in which Frank would be helping him with homework and the like. The fourth floor had staff bedrooms and living areas which really surprised Frank. He hadn’t realized that a lot of the help Mr. Way employed were live-in employees. He must really be quite rich.

                Frank would be staying on the fourth floor as well, in one of the spare rooms. The term ‘spare’ hardly did it justice, though. It was three sections within the one room, a suite with a living room area and bathroom. Mrs. Fairfax left him up there to settle in before Bandit came home from school, which was probably for the best so she didn’t see his stunned reaction. He couldn’t even do anything but stare at the massive area he’d been given.

                His aunt had been well-off, but Mr. Way was filthy rich. He couldn’t believe he’d lucked out with this situation. That wasn’t to say that he was money-hungry, but he knew he would be well taken care of in this home and it was such a nice feeling. Well Lowood was considered a good education, it was not a very luxurious place and often the boys wished they had a bit more to eat at dinner. Here, there was a fruit bowl filled to the brim with more than he could eat in a week just for him and his own minifridge stocked full of premium fancy water and name-brand sodas in glass bottles. It was truly incredible to him.

                It didn’t seem like anything could go wrong. Except for possibly Bandit. What would the young boy be like? It seemed like Mrs. Fairfax seemed to think he wasn’t doing so well. Was he a rowdy, unteachable boy? It didn’t matter, Frank decided. He was given the task of helping him and he would do so whatever the cost. Frank was anything but a slacker, definitely not one to call it quits before giving it his all. He would show his generous new employer he was completely capable, even if he wasn’t around to see it directly.

                It turned out Frank didn’t need to worry quite so much about Bandit, though. When he got home from school, he was beyond excited to meet his new tutor. He tried not to show it at first, but soon he warmed up to Frank and was showing him around his playroom. Mrs. Fairfax had told Frank to take today and the weekend to get to know him and not to start studying and such until Monday. Frank was grateful for this because it would allow him to build a rapport with Bandit.

                Bandit was like any other nine year old boy, Frank though. Perhaps a little bit nicer. He could be a bit wild at times and didn’t like to stay on task. Frank found out he had been born in France, actually, but had not lived there long. When he was three he and his mother moved to the U.S. and he lived with her until he was seven. Frank did not press him for any more details since he know from personal experience how difficult it could be to lose a parent or any family member.

                One good thing was that Bandit already knew quite a bit of French from his mother, so he and Frank bonded a bit over that. They were able to piece together conversations entirely in the language and Bandit found it quite hilarious that Mrs. Fairfax and the other employees couldn’t understand them. He would run around the house calling them “imbécile” and other things, all in good fun. While Frank didn’t encourage him, he couldn’t help but laugh at the boy.

                He used their shared language to an advantage and sometimes taught him lessons in French. Bandit appreciated this and did his homework diligently when Frank worked with him. Even in English, the boy listened to Frank and really seemed to grasp his math and science homework, which he had really been struggling with before. After a few weeks even of working together, Mrs. Fairfax said she’d gotten a call from the school to let Mr. Way know that Bandit was no longer lagging behind the rest of his class and he’d been taken off the academic watch list.     

                While things still weren’t perfect socially for Bandit, it really seemed that Frank helped him in that aspect, too. He got into less arguments at school and was more agreeable around the house as well. Mrs. Fairfax sang Frank’s praises to anyone who listen.

                As for Frank, he was getting along quite well with Mrs. Fairfax anyway. The two quickly took a liking to each other despite the gap in age and nearly everything else. When Bandit was in school, Frank would help Mrs. Fairfax with errands and paperwork Mr. Way had her take care of while he was away. She really appreciated the extra set of hands and would offer Frank company and friendship, which hadn’t been given freely to him in the past before.

                One Monday morning, Mrs. Fairfax had to stay home to meet with a potential recipient of a grant that Mr. Way’s foundation was giving out. She tasked Frank with mailing some legal documents she’d forgotten to put out that morning that couldn’t wait another day. Frank didn’t mind at all. He loved being outside and the weather had been oddly warm for late fall so the half mile walk to the nearest mail drop location wouldn’t be too much of a chore.

                He made it there and was on his way back when it started to drizzle and then snow a bit, in that noncommittal way where it’s hard to tell it’s even snowing instead of raining unless you’re outside in the middle of it. It wasn’t the end of the world for Frank, but he hadn’t brought a hat so he did start to hurry home.

                It seemed Frank wasn’t the only one in a hurry. He heard an engine revving behind him and a moment later a man on a motorcycle whizzed by. Frank was just thinking it was not at all motorcycle weather when the man hit a slushy puddle and his bike spun out of control. It started to tip and he luckily managed to get off before it crashed in the ditch.

                They were coming to the end of the city limits where the Way house was, and so it was almost country-like, with houses few and far between. There was no one else nearby at any rate, so it was up to Frank to help this man who laid on the edge of the road next to his ditched bike.

                By the time Frank ran up to him, he was trying to stand up, so Frank was relieved to see that the crash must not have been as bad as it seemed.

                “Sir, are you okay?” Frank asked him.

                “Do I look okay?” the man spat out. Frank supposed he did have a point.

                “Can I help you up?” Frank offered and the man grunted in reply. Frank wasn’t entirely sure but he took this to mean yes. He offered the man his hand, but he quickly landed back on the wet road. It seemed his leg wouldn’t hold his weight.

                “If you hadn’t been in the road, I wouldn’t be in this situation!” the frustrated man yelled at Frank. If it had been a few weeks earlier, Frank would have shrunk away from this man and apologized, but living as he was now with people who valued his company, he felt confident enough to stand up to the older man.

                “Sir, you shouldn’t have been riding in this weather. That’s why you crashed,” he stared at the man.

                “Well, you shouldn’t be walking in the damned weather, either,” the man said. He was  a haughty man, Frank noticed. Honestly, it wasn’t the only thing Frank noted about him. He was actually sort of attractive, though in an odd sort of way. Frank didn’t even understand why that thought popped into his head. He sort of stared at the injured man, half-confused, half-appreciative until the man smirked at him.

                “How about you stop staring and let me use your phone, kid?” he sneered at Frank.

                Ignoring his bad attitude, Frank answered honestly, “I don’t have one. I’m sorry. Don’t you have one on you?” The man, though wet and rumpled, did seem to be well-off, so Frank was surprised he didn’t have his own.

                “I left it in my car,” the man rolled his eyes, either at himself or Frank, Frank didn’t know which.

                “Well,” Frank bent down to look at the man’s motorcycle. He didn’t know a lot about them, but it did look pretty busted and probably not ridable. “I live just a minute away from here. I can run up and get some help for you,” Frank offered.

                “There’s only one house nearby,” the man said. “Where do you live?”

                “I live at the Way’s,” Frank explained.

                “Well, I know the boy who lives there. You’re about ten years too old to be him. Who are you then?” the man continued to question Frank.

                “I’m his tutor. I work for Mr. Way.”

                “Ah, right,” the man seemed lost in thought for a minute. He looked up as a black vehicle could be seen approaching. “There’s my driver. It doesn’t look like your services will be required anymore. You run along back to the Way’s, then,” he said. When Frank hesitated, he continued with, “I’ve had quite enough of your help anyway, look where it got me. Go on!”

                Frank no longer felt like he had any obligation to wait with the man, so he took off in a brisk jog towards home. It was beginning to get sort of cold and the incident had eaten a lot of his time up. He’d wanted to make up some flashcards before Bandit got home and, besides, Mrs. Fairfax was probably quite worried about him by now. He was sort of relieved to get away from that man, too. He made him feel and think things he couldn’t explain and didn’t want to, either.

Frank couldn’t deny he did feel an odd sense of dissatisfaction on his walk back, though. It felt like some new muscle in his body had been used for the first time, and there was the itch of something unknown running through him. He wanted to explore and shut it all down at the same time. Luckily he didn’t have time to do either, because when he got close to the door, Mrs. Fairfax rushed out to him. Back to reality, he thought, but not without a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it, sometimes it's hard for me to relate things from the book to this fic, because of the era, so if things seem a bit awkward at times, that's probably why.


	5. Just Sleep

“Frank, there you are! What took you so long?” Mrs. Fairfax ushered him inside. Frank opened his mouth to answer but she cut him off again. “It doesn’t matter. Have I got some news! Mr. Way is coming home! He’s on his way right now!” She beamed at him as they walked into the kitchen.

Frank just stared at her.

“I wasn’t expecting him for quite some time, but he did want to be here for Bandit’s birthday next month I imagine, though he won’t say so out loud. Oh, but the bad news! He was in a bit of an accident on his way home, riding that bike of his! I don’t know why on earth he’d use it in this weather, look how gloomy it’s gotten! Though, I suppose you did just come in from outside,” Mrs. Fairfax paused to smell some soup on the stove that the cook had left to simmer.

“He’s going to be seeing the doctor here at home. He says it’s just a sprain, but I told him on the phone he knows better than to ignore any injury, however small. But after that we’ll be having lunch together, I imagine. You’d better go up to your room and change, Frank. You’re a mess! Mr. Way is used to some very nice company, so you’ll want to put on your Sunday best, ok? Go on now,” she smiled.

Frank walked up the stairs quietly. He was replaying his meeting with who he now knew to be none other than his employer, Mr. Gerard Way. Had he said anything that would upset the man? Also, it seems Mr. Way knew who Frank was, so why tease him and keep his identity a secret?

When Frank reached his room a different problem reared its head. He didn’t even have anything all that nice to wear for the formal meal with his employer. If it had been a job interview, he knew he should be wearing a suit or at least a button-down shirt. Though he was already hired, he felt that this situation called for the same formalities. The only button-down he had, though, was the one with the Lowood insignia embroidered on and that hardly seemed appropriate. Finally, he selected a polo shirt and some slim fitting black pants.

The outfit was not very dressy, but he knew that it suited him, especially with the way he’d filled out after eating so well now. He was still quite thin, but no longer appeared to be starving, and the small weight gain brought color to his pale olive complexion. His thick, dark hair had grown sort of shaggy at this point, but no one had approached him to offer a haircut so it would have to do. Besides, he rather liked it.

When he was finally called for dinner, he was quite nervous. He’d spent the past forty minutes fiddling with his hands in his room and trying not to think about Mr. Way. It wasn’t so much that he was intimidated by him, the man he met in the street did not scare him, but he was anxious to know if their interaction affected his job. If he was let go from his position here, he had nowhere to go. There was no one in the world that loved him.

He made his way back down the sets of stairs and even one floor down was hit by the strong smell of rich, savory foods. Sure enough, when he was all the way downstairs in the dining room, the table was set with a soup and salad course that would have tempted anyone. He could smell past the doors and into the kitchen that there was potentially sea food and chicken as well, waiting to come out. Pumpkin pie, too, if he was correct.

Frank was led to a seat near Mrs. Fairfax, who was already sipping some wine. It didn’t seem that Mr. Way was ready yet. Frank opened his mouth to make some sort of menial remark to the older woman, to try to ease his own nerves, but just then the doors opened again and Mr. Way appeared, with one crutch and a slight limp.

Mrs. Fairfax stood up, so Frank did the same. Frank relaxed when he saw that Mr. Way was not in a suit either, though he had gotten out of his wet clothes. Frank’s mind pulled up the image of his employer laying on the road in his tight, wet, black pants and he clutched his hand in a fist to will the thought away. Why was he thinking of that? Now was not the time! In fact, there was never a time!

“Frank?” Mr. Way said again. Frank jumped a bit, he’d missed what was said to him.

“I’m sorry, sir?” he asked politely, trying not to seem so incompetent that Mr. Way would question his tutoring abilities.

“Yes, you should be,” Mr. Way chuckled deeply, but not with humor.

“Now, Gerard, be nice to the boy. He’s been great for Bandit. He’s not done anything wrong!” Mrs. Fairfax chastised, but Frank could see she was careful not to cross any lines.

“But he has, dear Mrs. Fairfax,” Mr. Way said. He glanced at Frank to gauge his reaction. “He caused my motorcycle crash.” Mr. Way began to stir his soup with his spoon absent-mindedly.

“Frank? He didn’t say anything to me about that,” Mrs. Fairfax defended her young friend but then turned to address him. “You didn’t say anything to me about that?”

Frank started to explain but Mr. Way cut him off. “He did indeed cause it. He was walking out in the rain and I had to swerve to avoid him. He was being careless. Weren’t you Frank?” Mr. Way’s expression was unreadable.

“That doesn’t seem like my Frank,” Mrs. Fairfax said at the same time Frank nearly shouted, “I was not!”

“Your Frank, Mrs. Fairfax?” Mr. Way asked simply. It was clear now to an impartial party that Mr. Way found great humor in this ordeal, but Frank was so upset by it that he could not read the situation properly.

“Oh, he’s quite a dear. He’s very helpful to me when Bandit’s off at school. Besides, I do get lonely and he’s excellent company. So mature for his age,” Mrs. Fairfax complimented Frank, completely forgetting the circumstances that brought him up.

“Yes, I can tell that. Well, either way, I suppose I will excuse him just this once. It is, as I thought, only a sprain, after all,” Mr. Way said and finished his soup.

The second course was brought out soon after. It was fish and potatoes and a chicken stuffing. Frank scarfed it down simply because he didn’t know what else to do. Conversation was at a lull and no one seemed willing to revive it. Mr. Way just watched Frank the whole time, casually but very blatantly as well.

He ended up excusing himself before dessert to attend to some business matters. Mrs. Fairfax offered to leave early as well to assist him, but he insisted she stay with Her Frank to finish their meal. When Mr. Way had left, she struck up a conversation with Frank.

“Well, what did you think of Mr. Way, then, Frank?” she smiled.

“He is, a… peculiar man, is he not?” Frank tried.

“Yes, I would say he is, Frank. He did not seem displeased with you, though, and I have always been sure to update him on your and Bandit’s progress, which he has always responded positively to. I do not think you have anything to worry about.”

Dessert was brought out and it saved Frank from saying anything further. There were strawberry rhubarb tarts and pumpkin cheesecake. Frank had just a bite and then left, under the pretense of preparing before Bandit was home. However, he really just wanted to be alone to think some things over.

When he was upstairs in his room, he went over his second meeting with Mr. Way. He didn’t want to, but he could hardly help it. The man was so strange to him. There hadn’t been too many male teachers at Lowood, so he wasn’t so often around mature males, and when he was they were awfully timid and knew their place in the world. This man, Mr. Way, was proud and haughty, though not unkind. That was the thing. Frank couldn’t quite place any of his qualities as positive or negative. He reasoned he’d only just met the man, but part of him knew that he was an enigma no matter how long you’d known him. Even Mrs. Fairfax seemed at a loss of words to describe him.

                Bandit finally came home, but he was not in the mood to study. He was excused from homework today and spent about half an hour with Mr. Way, before returning upstairs. Frank had been in his room, looking over some schoolwork and was there when he returned.

                “You did not spend too much time with him,” he commented.

                “Mr. Way has a lot of work to do,” Bandit said, and started to unpack a gift bag.

                “It looks like he brought you some presents, though?” Frank asked.

                “Yes, he usually brings me back some toys. And then he asks me how school is going. I don’t see him very much. I don’t know why he doesn’t send me to a boarding school like you went to,” Bandit pondered.

                “Well, you should be glad he doesn’t. They aren’t very nice places. It’s nicer to be with family,” Frank explained to the boy.

                “He isn’t really my family. My mom said he was my dad, but I asked him one day and he said he was not. I think maybe she didn’t know that, or she wouldn’t have left me with him,” Bandit said and continued to arrange his new toys.

                “What do you mean she left you with him?” Frank asked, curious.

                “She just did. We came here and she left and I didn’t. Oh,” Bandit paused. “I forgot. Mr. Way says he will see you for dinner with him every night while he’s here, starting tomorrow. He said it’s at six-thirty and you cannot be late.” Bandit made the throat-cutting sign with his hand across his neck and Frank honestly wasn’t sure if he’d added that for affect or if Mr. Way had actually done that as well.

                Frank left Bandit to his toys and went upstairs to his room early. Usually, he’d go out and take a walk or chat with Mrs. Fairfax, but it was too cold outside now and he didn’t want to discuss Mr. Way any further, so he wouldn’t risk a talk with her. He just wanted to relax. He’d had quite enough excitement for one day.

                He dozed off for a few hours and when he woke it was dark. The alarm clock by his bed said it was nearly midnight. He found, upon sitting up, that he was very hungry and he remembered he hadn’t gotten any dinner before going to sleep. He turned on a lamp and walked across his room to get some fruit or something, but he was out. He sighed because he would have to go downstairs to get something. Ever since Lowood, he hadn’t gone to bed hungry and he wasn’t going to start now.

                He tiptoed downstairs to the first floor and grabbed some cold leftovers from the fridge and put them on a plate. On his way up, he was being quiet but not sneaky. Mrs. Fairfax had made it clear he could help himself at any time. The lights were dimmed or off entirely on each floor as he continued upstairs. On the second floor, though, he saw a figure in the hallway. Whoever it was entered a room and slammed the door loudly. Frank knew it wasn’t any of the staff, as they were all on the fourth floor. He didn’t think it would be Mr. Way either, though, because he only had personal rooms on the third floor. Maybe a maid was cleaning at night? If that was the case, though, why be so loud and careless? Her employer slept just one floor up.

                Half of Frank wanted to go investigate the situation, but the other half was hungry and tired and just wanted to go upstairs to his room. That side of him won out and he was soon lounging in his bed, watching TV on low volume so as not to disturb anyone, and munching on some leftovers. He hardly had time to think about the day before he dozed off again to some late-night cooking show. Anyone would agree, he really needed the rest.


	6. Until My Heart Explodes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, this took longer than i had hoped to finish up. i know where i'm going with everything now and i'll try to finish up chapters a bit sooner. hope you enjoy this one!

Frank didn’t think much of the incident over the next couple of days. In fact, he didn’t even think much of his job teaching Bandit or of Mrs. Fairfax or anything else. He was too intrigued by Mr. Way.

The day after Bandit told him that Mr. Way wanted Frank to join him for dinner, Mr. Way again excused himself early and left Frank and Mrs. Fairfax to finish dinner alone. The day after that, a Wednesday, he did not come to dine at all. On Thursday, Mrs. Fairfax was in town over dinner running some late errands, and Frank finally did eat a full meal with Mr. Way. Luckily, Bandit was there to ease Frank’s nervousness as children are so apt at doing.

Mr. Way had come down for dinner early, looking more casual than Frank had ever seen him before. He had on a crisp t-shirt and another pair of black pants, similar to the ones he wore the day Frank met him, but this pair was even tighter and showed off his legs well. Immediately after Frank noticed this, he gripped the back of his chair hard to expel the thought. When he had pulled it out and was sitting down, Mr. Way made a comment on Frank’s outfit. Frank thought maybe he did this because he’d seen Frank staring at him and was trying to tease or chastise him for it, but Frank was determined not to seem affected by anything Mr. Way said. He’d done a lot of thinking and it seemed to him in the short time he’d known Mr. Way, that he was always trying to get a rise out of people, even if he wasn’t so obvious in doing so.

So, when Mr. Way said, “Frank, your shirt is becoming quite tight around your stomach,” Frank did not even bat an eye. Mr. Way ignored his silence and continued, “You seem to be always hungry. Did they not feed you well at Lowood?” His lips remained passive but his eyes held a faint smirk as he awaited Frank’s response.

“No, sir,” Frank said simply and kept his eyes on his plate.

Mr. Way swallowed a chuckle. “Well, eat up then. The weight suits you.”

It was Frank’s turn to swallow loudly, but he wasn’t hiding a laugh.

There wasn’t much conversation through the rest of dinner. Once desert was brought out, Bandit spoke up. He was presented with a mango sorbet with a crushed nut topping. He made it extremely clear that he despised mango and Mr. Way told him he could go ask the cook for a regular vanilla sundae, which he happily did. As he walked off into the kitchen, Gerard produced a box from the chair next to him. It was a shiny black but otherwise plain box, about seven inches long.

“I do want you to know, Frank, that I recognize the progress you’ve made with Bandit. His grades are vastly improved as well as is his behavior towards his peers. I had one of my staff pick this up for you. I’m not taking it out of your pay. Think of it as a bonus?” Mr. Way smiled quickly and slid the box across the table to Frank.

“Should I open it now, sir?” Frank asked quietly.

“You don’t have to call me—“ Mr. Way began but stopped. “Yes, why not?”

Frank lifted the lid off the box and inside was another one, but this package had a label. It was a new phone, with a charger and case. Frank slid the packaging off and held up the cell phone. He didn’t know much about phones but he could tell it was an expensive one. He couldn’t believe Mr. Way would do something like that for him.

“I remember when we met, you said you didn’t have one. If you do plan and going out for walks, presumably to find more victims to startle, I think it would be wise if you carried a phone so you could at least call help for them afterward. Besides, if something were to happen to you, what would Bandit do without your help in school?” Mr. Way looked at Frank, but Frank could not tell what he was really thinking. Mr. Way was very rarely transparent.

“Thank you, very much. Really, I hardly deserve this. But thank you,” Frank gushed. He was very grateful indeed. It would make things much easier to have a way to get in touch with Mrs. Fairfax when he was out.

“You can turn it on. I got it all set up. The number is written somewhere on the box,” Mr. Way explained. “I hope you like the case.”

Frank picked it up to examine it. It was a Black Flag case. Frank gave Mr. Way a genuine smile. How had he known Frank liked that band?

Mr. Way just gave Frank a long look, like he did so often, but this one was somehow different. He had a faraway look in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but then Bandit came in, and he shut it. Instead, he let out a clipped, “Right,” and told Frank he was welcome for the phone but now he’d better earn it and do some more work with Bandit tonight before bed.

Frank immediately stood up and gathered his things and led Bandit to his room. “Goodnight, sir,” he said as he pulled the door shut behind him.

“Goodnight, Frank,” Mr. Way said softly back.

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------

After Frank read Bandit his lesson from his history book and asked him some questions about the text, he decided to call it quits for the night. He went up to his room to watch TV and play with his new phone. Once he was sprawled on his bed, he turned it on.

Mr. Way had filled his contacts with all the staff’s phone numbers. Even Mrs. Fairfax was listed in there, under Mrs. F. One name stood out to him, though. Under the G’s, he saw “Gerard” listed and a couple of numbers after. Mr. Way had given him his work and cell numbers, which wasn’t exactly unusual. What confused Frank was that he had put it under his first name. It seemed a bit informal and Mr. Way was anything but. Frank considered he may wish for Frank to start calling him Mr. Way, or even just Gerard, but he felt that was too relaxed a way to address his employer just yet, so he decided to hold off.

Frank fell asleep early as he often did nowadays. The house quieted down around nine-thirty or ten p.m. and Frank was always in bed by then, too. That night, though, the house was anything but quiet. He awoke to yelling and swearing. His heart picked up and he felt around the bed for his phone, using the flashlight to illuminate the room. At that point, he realized he was not in the middle of the turmoil. It sounded to be coming from the third floor, where Mr. Way slept. He sat still and listened, trying to make out what exactly was being said.

He could hear Mr. Way’s voice as part of the commotion. There was a deeper voice as well, this was the one that was swearing. It seemed like Mr. Way was trying to quiet the angry man. Frank heard a couple other voices join, then a loud thump, and everything went quiet. Frank didn’t know what to do at all.

He waited in bed for about five minutes, mostly to see if the noises would start up again. When he still didn’t hear anything, he crept out of the room and downstairs to see what was going on and if he could help Mr. Way. When he got down there, though, there was no one in the hall. He wasn’t sure if he should walk around at all, since these were mainly Mr. Way’s personal rooms, except for the Bandit’s to the right of the staircase. He lingered by the entryway a while longer, while he debated what to do.

Finally, someone came out of one of the doors on the left, Frank thought it was Mr. Way’s sitting room that connected to his bedroom. The man walked towards Frank in the shadows until the light from his phone hit his face and revealed him to be Bob, the groundskeeper.

“What are you doing down here, kid?” Bob asked him and Frank jumped. His voice was gruff and angry, just like those screams he’d heard.

“I heard someone yelling. I thought I should make sure everything was okay,” Frank said firmly, though he was very frightened.

“Everything’s fine, you can go upstairs. Mr. Way had a nightmare, is all. I’m a real light sleeper so I heard him from downstairs. I came up to quiet him and, well, as you can hear, he’s quiet,” Bob said, staring down at Frank.

“Why were you downstairs?” Frank asked.

“My room is down in the basement, next to the workshop. Easier for me so I can get up earlier without waking anyone,” Bob said, obviously annoyed that Frank was still there and talking to him.

“I didn’t even know there was a basement,” Frank said. He couldn’t remember Mrs. Fairfax telling him and even Bandit hadn’t mentioned it.

“There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know, kid,” Bob said ominously and then added, “Now get to bed. I’ve got to get up in a couple hours and I don’t need you creeping around, keeping me up.”

Frank didn’t feel good about leaving without making sure Bandit and Mr. Way were safe, but he also didn’t feel good about sticking around with Bob any longer, either, so he made his way back up to his room. He figured he’d ask Mr. Way about what happened in the morning, assuming he was okay, that was. Frank felt a shiver run up his body at the thought. There was something about Mr. Way that made Frank like him. He didn’t want to lose him so soon.

Frank would be lying if he said he didn’t think of Mr. Way as he drifted back to sleep. It was so kind of him to get Frank a phone, even if it was just a bonus for work. Frank didn’t really have any other work experience, but he didn’t think that other bosses treated their employees as part of the family like Mr. Way treated his. Mrs. Fairfax had told him that she was only working casually for Mr. Way as a secretary, but when her older husband died suddenly of a heart attack and she was left alone and without much money, Mr. Way offered for her to move in and be his full time assistant. She’d been working for the past ten years in the position now and she told Frank she’d never leave.

Though he hadn’t known Mr. Way all that long, he felt like he was a part of the family, too. And with that thought, finally, he was able to go back to sleep again.

 -------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Frank got out of bed early and went down to find Mr. Way, or at least Mrs. Fairfax and see what had exactly happened and if everything was okay. He couldn’t find Mrs. Fairfax on the first floor and didn’t want to barge into one of Mr. Way’s rooms so, for the second time, he found himself on the staircase waiting for something to happen.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. Mr. Way came downstairs, dressed to leave it seemed.

“Mr. Way!” Frank said quickly and loudly, before he could slip by.

“Mr. Iero,” Mr. Way said impatiently.

“Sir, I heard something last night and I wanted to see if you were okay. What happened?”

Mr. Way rubbed his temples and let out an annoyed sigh. “Frank, not today,” he said finally. “Don’t you have something you should be doing?”

Frank was taken aback by Mr. Way’s formal and irritated tone. Mr. Way had been rude to him before, but never so disinterested and bothered by Frank’s mere presence.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” Frank said and walked quickly past him upstairs before anything else could be said. Frank reprimanded himself as he went back up to his room. He shouldn’t have treated his employer so casually, so like a friend. Sure, Mr. Way was kind to Frank, but Frank knew that everyone’s kindness had a limit and he should not try to make Mr. Way dislike him so early on.

Frank spent the rest of the morning sulking in his room and didn’t come down until lunch. He met Mrs. Fairfax at the table, where she demonstrated her best skill: conversation.

“I do hope you didn’t wake up in the night. I’ve been informed Mr. Way was having quite the nightmare, yelling and thrashing about in the middle of the night. I’m a sound sleeper these days, so I didn’t hear anything, but I hear that Bob went to his aid. Bless him, Gerard has always had terrible nightmares,” she sighed.

Frank wasn’t comforted by anything she said. He just wanted the chance to talk to Mr. Way and apologize for the way he treated him. Maybe then things could go on as normal.

“Do you think Mr. Way will be back for dinner? I saw him go out this morning,” Frank asked her.

“Oh, no, dear. He’s to be away for a number of days, he said. He’s got business across the state. He’s a hard-working man, that’s to be sure,” she chattered on.

Frank slumped in his chair. What if Mr. Way never gave him the chance to apologize? What if he just fired him, maybe even in a text message on his new phone. Frank knew he wouldn’t do that, but he couldn’t stop the thoughts from entering his head.

“Oh, Frank. You don’t look very well at all!” Mrs. Fairfax remarked. “Why don’t you let me walk you back to your room. You should get some rest, dear.”

Frank allowed himself to be marched back to his room and into bed, where he did not sleep at all. How could he sleep when his future was again so uncertain? A smaller, quieter part of his mind relayed the real problem: How could he sleep when Mr. Way was angry with him?


	7. Think Happy Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this def veers away from original storyline, lol, i'll get back to it a bit more closely next chapter. just wanted to go more in depth as to how frank feels about mr. way.

       Mr. Way had been away for two days now and Frank was still miserable. He tried distracting himself, but nothing worked. He was so upset that he had angered or annoyed the older man that he admired. Frank spent his days sulking around when Bandit wasn’t home. Not even Mrs. Fairfax could engage him.

       “Frank, what is wrong with you? Are you feeling ill? You can take time off from working with Bandit if it’s too stressful,” she said on the evening of the second day when Frank wouldn’t touch his dinner or look up from his lap.

       “No,” he said. “I like helping Bandit. It’s the only thing that keeps me occupied.”

       “Well, if you aren’t sick, it sounds like we just need to keep you a bit busier.” When Frank didn’t look up, she continued, “I don’t mean with more work, either. Frank, what sort of things did you do for fun at Lowood?”

       Frank didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t want to make Mrs. Fairfax feel bad by saying he hadn’t been allowed to have many hobbies or otherwise “fun” things. He tried to think up something to tell her so she could feel like she was helping. She was always so concerned with how he was feeling.

       “I never had one of my own, actually, to properly learn, but at Lowood there was an old guitar in the music classroom that I would practice on sometimes. I’ve always wanted to learn for real,” Frank trailed off wistfully.

       “Oh, Frank!” Mrs. Fairfax exclaimed. “That would be lovely! I’d love to have a musician around the house. I’ll shoot Gerard a text and see if he could bring one home when he comes!”

        “N-no, don’t bother Mr. Way!” Frank attempted to reply calmly. “I’ll just buy myself one in town.”

        “Nonsense. There isn’t a decent music store for hours and the stipend Mr. Way pays you is not nearly enough for you to save up and treat yourself to a nice instrument. Mr. Way won’t have any problem with it and if he does, I’ll buy it myself. Not another word about it,” she gave Frank a look when he started to protest.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                Thinking about the guitar distracted Frank for a few hours while he waited for Bandit to come home. He didn’t think of Mr. Way at all until his phone lit up. He unlocked it and checked his messages. _One unread from Gerard._ Frank’s heart skipped a beat and he bit his lip nervously before he opened it.

                _Gerard: Hi Frank._

Frank was at a loss for words. Why would Mr. Way text him, and so casually, after shrugging Frank off a few days ago? Was this his ‘I’m sorry but I have to let you go’ text? Or ‘Just letting you know I totally hate you’? Frank shook his head. That was ridiculous. Mr. Way, though temperamental, was a fair man.

                Still, how should Frank address him? ‘Hello Sir’ or ‘Hi Mr. Way’ seemed too uptight but ‘Hey Gerard’ was still completely off-limits.

                _Frank: Hello._

Frank nodded his head as he sent it. That was nice and simple and (hopefully) didn’t seem rude.

                _Gerard: So Mrs. Fairfax tells me you want a guitar now. I’ve spoiled you. Your phone wasn’t enough? What’s next – my hand and half of my estate?_

Frank nearly dropped his phone when Mr. Way’s message came in. He knew Mrs. Fairfax shouldn’t have said anything to him about it. Of course he would be angry with Frank. He rushed a reply, hoping to set the record straight.

                _Frank: I’m sorry I didn’t mean for her to ask you. I was just telling her about wanting one. I don’t need one. I’m sorry to bother you about it, Mr. Way._

Frank crossed his fingers that Mr. Way would forgive him for asking. He wasn’t afraid of him, but he was afraid of losing Bandit and Mrs. Fairfax. They’d become his family now.

                _Gerard: Well, it’s too late now. I’ve already picked one up. I’ll be home with it tomorrow._

Frank peered at the message, finding it hard to believe. However, when a picture downloaded onto the screen as well, he was assured Mr. Way was telling the truth. It was a brand new white guitar. Frank thought it was a Les Paul, like one of the older boys at school had. This one was much nicer than his, though.

                _Gerard: P.S… I like spoiling you._

Frank bit his lip again. He told himself that Mr. Way’s text didn’t mean anything, but he felt funny and tight and hot in his chest. He pictured Mr. Way saying those words to his face, but he felt dirty doing so. He knew Mr. Way couldn’t be implying anything with his words and that it certainly didn’t even guarantee that he was back on his good side. Frank convinced himself it just meant that Mr. Way was trying to get along with him, for Bandit’s sake. But even as he said it, he didn’t believe it and a blush still colored his cheeks when he whispered the words.

                “I like spoiling you.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                Frank spent the next morning in the garden. He was too jittery to wait inside for Mr. Way to come home. He kept knocking into people and getting in the way. So, he wasted time walking on the frozen ground between the rows of trees. After about an hour and a half of that, though, he couldn’t feel his face, fingers, or feet, so he decided to go sit by the downstairs fireplace to warm up.

                Once he was inside, he couldn’t stop shivering and sneezing. Mrs. Fairfax had sent him right to bed with extra blankets and turned the heat up uncomfortably high in his room. He rolled his eyes after a particularly long string of sneezes. He should have known better than to stay out so long in the cold, he had a nearly non-existent immune system.

                He turned on some cartoons and watched half-heartedly as his eyes slowly closed. He didn’t think he’d even fallen asleep, but when he opened his eyes, the lights were dimmed and Mr. Way was sitting next to his bed.

                “Hey, Frank,” Mr. Way said softly. “How are you doing?”

                “M’okay,” Frank said sleepily, rolling towards Mr. Way. “You’re back.”

                “Yeah, I’ve been back for a while. You slept through dinner. Mrs. Fairfax said you had a fever,” He paused and felt Frank’s forehead with the back of his hand. “You don’t feel so warm now, at least.”

                Frank did feel a lot better. More than better, in fact, from Mr. Way’s touch. He shifted uncertainly and Mr. Way drew his hand back quickly.

                “I brought your guitar upstairs, but you should wait until tomorrow to try it out, okay?’

                Frank nodded.

                “Are you hungry?”

                He nodded again.

                “Okay, I’ll have someone bring something up. Some soup or whatever sick people eat, I don’t know.”

                Frank giggled slightly at the confusion on Mr. Way’s face. He was obviously trying to be helpful.

                “Thank you, Sir,” Frank smiled.

                “Frank, you can call me Gerard,” Mr. Way looked at Frank again with that undecipherable expression.

                “Okay, Sir— Gerard. Okay, Gerard,” Frank said and Gerard smiled back at him.

                “Alright, well the food should be up soon, go right back to bed after you eat, though. I’ve got a surprise for you tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it. Goodnight, Frank,” Gerard said.

                “Goodnight, Gerard,” Frank told him back and he was gone.

                Sleep didn’t come to Frank even after he was full of soup and crackers and tea. He was curious about what Gerard’s surprise was. Especially after he’d already gotten him a guitar. And especially after he’d asked Frank to call him Gerard. That must mean they were on good terms again. He was so relieved.

                He was still pondering things an hour later at nine-thirty when he heard yelling downstairs again. This time, he didn’t even consider getting out of bed. It was clear to him that Gerard didn’t like to be asked about his nightmares. However, considering the time it was a bit odd that Gerard had fallen asleep already. Still, it wasn’t Frank’s business and he did not want to overreact and make Gerard mad again, even if it was just out of concern.

                The turmoil downstairs didn’t last long and Frank was able to try to sleep. His mind kept thinking of Gerard, though. When he did fall asleep, he had a dream of his own.

                _Frank opened his eyes to find Gerard in his room again. He was dressed in black silk pajamas and his hair was disheveled._

_“Sir?” Frank asked._

_“I told you to call me Gerard,” he said playfully._

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“It’s okay, Frankie. I just wanted to give you your surprise. Is it too early?”_

_Frank smiled and could feel himself blushing. “No, Gerard. I’m awake. What is it?”_

_Gerard walked up to Frank and sat on his bed. “Is this okay?”_

_“Yes, anything’s okay when it’s you,” Frank whispered._

_Gerard slipped under the covers next to Frank. “Is this okay?”_

_“Yes,” Frank said quietly, heart beating fast._

_Gerard turned to face Frank and traced his jawline with his fingertips. “Is this okay, Frankie?”_

_“Yes, Gerard,” Frank sighed heavily. He couldn’t slow his breathing._

_“You’ve got such a beautiful face, Frank,” Gerard told him. “And a beautiful body,” he said as he slipped his hand down to Frank’s chest and then stomach. “Is this okay?” he purred._

_Frank couldn’t talk so he just nodded. Gerard hooked his fingers under the waistband of Frank’s boxers. “So beautiful,” he whispered. He began to slide his hand in and—_

Frank woke up. He was panting and hard under his pajama pants. He already felt guilty but he couldn’t ignore what his body wanted. He closed his eyes tight and tried to draw up the dream again.

                “Gerard,” he whined, hand already down his pants. “Feels so good. Oh, Gerard!”

                He came moments later in his hand. He knew he should be completely ashamed of himself, and part of him was, but the other part kept imagining more. The look on Gerard’s face in his dream. Cuddling with him after they were done. Staying in bed all day.

                Soon, the rest of Frank was on board with the moral side of him and he felt sick about what he’d done. Gerard was a grown man and his employer, the father figure of his student and, really, old enough to be his own father. Gerard had never given Frank any reason to have these thoughts or dreams and Frank should not have given in. Especially not after Gerard had been so kind and forgiving towards him.

                Besides, what did any of this even mean? Frank wasn’t gay. Sure, he’d never had a girlfriend or a crush on a girl, but he’d never really been around girls, either. He’d been around tons of guys and never developed feelings for any of them. But, he reasoned, none of them had been as beautiful or intriguing as Mr. Way.

                He groaned at himself for thinking that and got up to take a hot shower. He wanted the scalding water to wash away the dirtiness in his mind. He just needed to focus on Gerard as an employer and, at most, a kind acquaintance. Nothing more. Absolutely nothing more.


	8. Where's Your Heart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long, i have finals soon. hope you like it!

Frank was sitting in Gerard’s study waiting for him. Mrs. Fairfax had come up in the morning to check on him and ask if he was feeling much better and was he up for that surprise of his later. Of course, Frank agreed. As guilty as he felt for what he’d done early that morning, he couldn’t say no to seeing Gerard. Besides, he had put it past him. He was obviously not gay and had just confused feelings of friendship and gratitude for a romantic inclination.

                As Frank was convincing himself that his feelings were platonic, Gerard walked in, followed by another man. He was about the same height as Gerard, maybe a bit taller, but otherwise the two looked totally different. This new man looked like he’d just gotten in from a night of partying but wasn’t the least bit tired.

                “Frank, this is Brendon. He’s a friend of mine. He’s quite musically inclined and I’ve arranged for him to start giving you guitar lessons. Are you feeling up to it?”

                Frank nodded enthusiastically and gripped his guitar, which was propped up next to him. He really was thoroughly excited to be learning.

                “Frank. What a plain jane name,” Brendon giggled at Frank, but not mockingly. “You don’t look so plain. You’ve got spunk. I can feel it.” Frank tried not to laugh himself as Brendon sang out the last sentence.

                “Alright, Gee, I’ve got it from here. You can head out,” Brendon winked. “He was never any good at guitar. I tried to teach him. He’d only slow us down.” Brendon had a contagiously happy personality and Frank couldn’t help but beam no matter what he said. He was so glad to be introduced to someone who wasn’t afraid to have fun.

                When the two were alone, Brendon started to play a little for Frank on his own guitar. Frank was impressed with his skill, especially since Brendon had told him he played over ten other instruments to some degree. He felt confident that if anyone could teach him, it would be Brendon.

                Soon Frank was starting to strum together chords as well, albeit not as deftly as his teacher. Brendon said Frank was a natural, but encouraged him to take a break so he didn’t get overwhelmed or frustrated. Someone brought up some sandwiches and they sat around for a minute to eat.

                “So Gerard says you haven’t been living here too long?” Brendon inquired casually.

                “No, a month or two, maybe not quite that. It’s hard to keep track. It feels like longer than it has been. Everyone is so nice here I just feel like…” Frank stopped.

                Brendon looked at Frank kindly to encourage him to continue.

                “It feels like home,” Frank added.

                Brendon nodded. “I didn’t have the best home life growing up. My parents were all right, just very preoccupied with their own views and beliefs, rather than me or what I wanted. When I found my group of friends, I just _belonged_ , you know? I clicked right away with them and it was like leaving home to come home. So, I know what you mean, Frank.”

                “Is Gerard one of those friends?” Frank asked.

                “I’ve known Gerard a long time, yeah. He was in a bad place when I met him. I mean, we both were in a way. We kind of helped each other through it. Me with family problems and him with Bandit’s mom. I look back and I don’t know what we would have done without each other,” Brendon sighed.

                “Can I ask…” Frank trailed off again.

                “About Bandit’s mom?” Brendon guessed and saw he was right by Frank’s face. “What I can tell you is this. Bandit isn’t Gerard’s son. Gerard’s not, well, what I mean is it’s not very possible when you look at the facts. They were friends, Eliza and him, they met in France when Gerard visited one summer. Really close to each other and then she got into drugs and Gerard was trying to get out of them and they sort of fell apart. Then one day she comes to the States and the next she’s dead and she told everyone Bandit was Gee’s.”

                “And he just took him in?” Frank wondered.

                “Well, of course. It’s Gerard. He’s a softie,” Brendon chuckled.

                “Doesn’t seem like it sometimes,” Frank said.

                Brendon just laughed a little louder. “Yeah, well, he’s been through some shit, kid.”

                Frank nodded. He didn’t need to know all Gerard’s secrets in one day. “Did he ever do like a paternity test for Bandit to make sure?”

                Brendon had a funny look on his face but didn’t explain much other than a “yeah, there was really no need.” Then he suggested they get back to work for a while.

                ///

                Brendon left after another forty five minutes and Frank walked him to the door to say goodbye and thank him. Brendon said he was happy to help Frank out and that he’d see him again next week if it was alright. Frank assured him that it was and he couldn’t wait. Frank was watching him drive away when Gerard came up behind him.

                “You just missed him,” Frank said.

                “That’s alright,” Gerard smiled. “I’m here to see you.”

                “Thanks for having him teach me,” Frank said, assuming Gerard had come to collect his thanks.

                Gerard just shrugged as though to say _don’t mention it_.

                “I was hoping you would play a little bit for me before Mrs. Fairfax gets back?” Gerard looked hopeful but Frank wasn’t very good at all yet and didn’t want to disappoint his generous friend.

                “Maybe I should wait until I know a little more. I’ve just got a few chords down so far.”

                “Please, Frank?” Gerard unintentionally bit his lip as he pleaded with his eyes and Frank was done for.

                “Okay,” he said and lead Gerard upstairs to his study where the guitar still was. “What do you want me to play? I really do only know a few chords,” Frank explained, listing off the extent of his talent.

                “Can you play those last two for me? Like this?” Gerard reached his hands out for the guitar and Frank handed it over. He started to strum and while it wasn’t perfect, Frank didn’t think he was half bad. “And then add this one in? It’s really similar to the E chord you already learned.”

                “Yeah, I think I can handle that.” Frank tried it out and it was simple enough. He glanced up at Gerard who nodded for him to keep playing. It sounded alright to Frank but he didn’t know why Gerard wanted him to keep it up.

                Until Gerard started to sing.

“We hold in our hearts the sword and the faith   
Swelled up from the rain, clouds move like a wraith   
Well after all, we'll lie another day   
And through it all, we'll find some other way   
To carry on through cartilage and fluid   
And did you come to stare or wash away the blood?”

Frank didn’t need to be told how to move his hands on the strings as Gerard continued on with the song. He fumbled a bit at first but he got through it and his music matched Gerard’s voice as he went into the chorus.

“Well tonight, well tonight   
Will it ever come?   
Spend the rest of your days rocking out   
Just for the dead   
Well tonight   
Will it ever come?   
I can see you awake anytime, in my head.”

                Frank stopped playing after Gerard began to sing out the next bit. He felt tears prick his eyes but blinked them back. Gerard continued on until he had finished and only then looked up at Frank. He wasn’t crying, but he looked drained and desperate and vulnerable and Frank had to look away. This wasn’t the man who haughtily joked with him, this wasn’t the cold employer who didn’t have time for Frank. He didn’t know his place in this man’s eyes and so he did not meet them.

                A moment passed before Frank said quietly, “That was beautiful.” Finally he brought his eyes back up to Gerard’s, whose had never turned away from Frank.

                “Thank you, Frank,” he smiled sadly. “You played well for just one lesson.”

                Frank smiled and tried to brush his hair out of his face.

                “You should probably get that cut,” Gerard said softly.

                “I kind of like it long,” Frank admitted.

                “Me too,” Gerard whispered and reached over to help Frank push his bangs back.

                Frank’s heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. He pulled back quickly and moved towards the door, saying he was going to put his guitar away. Gerard didn’t say anything back to him, instead just sitting and staring ahead where Frank used to be, his hand in a loose fist back by his side.

                ///

                Frank always seemed to be in a daze after time spent with Gerard and today’s incident was no exception. He hardly paid any attention to Bandit’s talk of school or homework and just let him quietly read his own assignments for the nightly, only intervening to explain things here or there.

                Frank didn’t go down to dinner and didn’t eat what was brought up to him, either. He was so confused by Gerard and his own feelings that he didn’t know what to think. Surely, Gerard wasn’t insinuating that he felt anything towards Frank. Even if Gerard was interested in men, Frank was hardly a man. He was not yet eighteen. But then why did it seem like Gerard was as in awe of Frank as Frank was of him?

                Not in awe, Frank corrected himself. Grateful. Appreciative. Happy for the opportunities he has presented him with. But Frank’s heart was heavy in his chest and he knew the truth about his own feelings, though he would not say it out loud.

                Frank couldn’t possibly fall asleep feeling as he was. He just watched the minutes go by on his digital clock, an annoying reminder of the time he was wasting feeling confused and in vague pain. He turned over onto his other side for a while and tried to close his eyes and sleep, but when he turned back around only ten minutes had passed and the eerie red numbers spelled out 1:14 a.m. At least five or six more hours to go until it was appropriate to get up.

                Frank was playing the age old game of _if I go to sleep right now, how many hours of sleep will I get?_ when he heard it. Or rather, them. Footsteps outside his door. Running up to the door and then back down the stairs again. And a voice, too, but not a yell like before. A laugh. A sickening, dark laugh. Frank couldn’t possibly ignore this, no matter how mad Gerard got at him. This wasn’t a nightmare, this was a person, a maniac, a robber maybe?, running around laughing and it was certainly not Gerard. Frank had heard Gerard’s arrogant, dismissive laugh before but this one was so cold a chill ran down his back as it repeated. He got out of bed.

                He looked around after opening his door but didn’t see or hear anything or anyone. So, he made his way towards the stairs, figuring he’d find out soon enough if it was safe for him or not. When he got down to Gerard and Bandit’s floor, he didn’t hear anything either, but he did smell something. Was that smoke?

                Instinctually, he went to Bandit’s room first. He cracked open the door and saw that he was safe and peacefully sleeping. He couldn’t smell the smoke in that part of the hall, but it was definitely there as he made his towards Gerard’s bedroom. He pushed open the door, almost surprised when it wasn’t locked. There were knots in his stomach, but he couldn’t worry about anything else other than Gerard’s safety right now. Once the door was all the way open, Frank stood still for a beat, hand over his mouth, partially in shock, partially to shield his face from the smoke. Gerard’s four poster bed was on fire!

                He’d never been in this room before and spun around in a frenzy looking for something to use. In the dim moonlight through the window, he saw an old-timey pitcher and basin of water on the dresser. He quickly grabbed that and flung it on the fire before it caught the blankets that Gerard was under. It didn’t put it out entirely, but it certainly helped. Then he tried to wake Gerard up, but he wouldn’t open his eyes. He was shaking him and yelling his name for nearly a minute before he responded, and Frank was beginning to worry he was unconscious or worse, but then he did open his eyes and immediately jumped out of the burning bed.

                “What the hell?!” he shouted, but Gerard acted fast. He grabbed the canopy by its untouched edge and in one swift movement, pulled it off the bedframe and patted out the flames. He stood for a moment before turning to Frank with an alarmed and confused expression.

                “I’ll go get Mrs. Fairfax,” Frank offered. He didn’t know what else to do.

                “No! No,” Gerard almost shouted, but then repeated more softly. He pushed the door closed after seeing the hallway was clear. Then he went around the room and started opening the many windows, motioning for Frank to help him. The air already smelt a lot better after just a few seconds, but the December breeze caused Frank to shiver involuntarily. Gerard noticed and fetched his robe from a coat hook and wrapped it around Frank’s shoulders. He motioned for him to sit down on the couch across the room and he sat on the chair near it.

                “Now, Frank, let’s get to the bottom of this ourselves. What happened?” he asked.

                “I heard something, a laugh,” Frank said, shaking even harder as the realization of what was going on set in. Gerard cautiously moved to sit on the couch next to him.

                “It’s okay, Frankie. Just tell me what you heard,” he said soothingly.

                Frank swallowed and nodded. “I heard someone laughing outside my door. Like a madman, a deep, crazy laugh. Just like Bob’s,” Frank stopped to take a few breaths and Gerard furrowed his brow.

                “Go on.”

                “I came downstairs to check on Bandit and, well, you. I made sure he’s okay, Bandit, I mean. Then I came in here because I smelled smoke. And when I opened the door I saw the fire and I tried to put it out with that water,” here Gerard motioned to his wet silk pajamas as to confirm that he knew that part, “and then I woke you up. But you wouldn’t wake up at first and I was afraid you weren’t going to and—“ Frank stopped because he was crying and Gerard gathered him in his arms and rocked him back and forth gently, stroking his hair.

                “I’m okay, Frank. I’m okay. It’s all okay,” he whispered into Frank’s hair. They sat like that until Frank could calm down.

                Then Gerard asked, “So, you say the laugh was Bob’s?” Frank nodded. “You think he set the fire?”

                Frank didn’t know what to say. He did indeed think so, but he didn’t want to outright accuse Bob in front of Gerard. So, he just shrugged and leaned back into Gerard’s grasp.

                “It’s okay. I’m going to go look into it, okay, Frank? Will you be alright here alone? You’ll stay right here and wait for me?” Gerard asked, standing up.

                Frank nodded yes to his questions and curled up into the corner of the couch. Gerard’s robe was very big on him and it felt just like a warm blanket. He started to close his eyes even before Gerard left the room. He knew he should be on lookout for any more trouble, but he was so tired and the stress of everything was really too much. He would just rest his eyes until Gerard came back.

                 ///

                About an hour later, Frank was being nudged awake by Gerard. He sleepily looked at him and smiled before remembering the circumstances and then he grimaced. Gerard didn’t seem to notice.

                “I took care of everything, Frank. You were right. It was Bob after all. He didn’t mean to hurt me, though, Frank. It was just supposed to be a prank,” Gerard explained, but Frank didn’t buy it.

                “Some prank. You could have died,” Frank scoffed, now awake and angry.

                “But I didn’t, Frank. Do you know why? You saved me. Frank, I owe you my life,” he said, kneeling down in front of where Frank sat.

                “It’s no problem,” Frank said uncomfortably. He didn’t like to be the center of Gerard’s attention like this. “I guess I should go to back to bed.”

                Gerard nodded. “Frank, will you do me one more favor? Don’t tell anyone about tonight, the whole thing. I don’t want to embarrass Bob,” he paused when Frank made a face. “I know you blame him, but it really was an accident. Let’s just keep it between ourselves, okay?”

                Frank agreed and stood to leave. He made it past Gerard and to the door before he was stopped.

                “What? You’re going?” Gerard demanded.

                “It’s late,” Frank said, but it felt like a poor excuse even as he said it.

                “Frank,” Gerard walked over to where he stood by the door. “Frank, you saved my life. Did you hear me?”

                “It’s okay, really,” Frank said, fidgeting slightly.

                “Frank, when I first met you, I could tell you were special. I could tell we were meant to meet each other. That you would help me in more ways than I could know. And here, now, you’ve saved my very life. Frank, I really owe you so much.” Gerard took Frank’s hands in his to stop him from moving nervously.

                “You’ve given me a lot. We’re even,” Frank said quickly.

                “We are not. Not in the least. But it is no matter, Frank. I am happy to owe you. There’s no one I’d rather owe, in fact. Frank, my…” he stopped but his eyes said what Frank pretended not to hear in his trembling voice. Frank knew if he didn’t leave now he never would. He couldn’t make a fool of himself by admitting to Gerard how he felt just because he was feeling grateful to Frank. He had to go now.

                “I’ve really—I should go to bed now. Goodnight, Gerard,” Frank said hastily and with that he left Gerard for the second time, but not for the last.


	9. Take Me With You This Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment if you (don't) like how this is turning out, i'm unsure?  
> thanks

                Frank didn’t sleep until around seven a.m. that morning, and even then it was restlessly. He woke up, startled from some instantly forgotten nightmare, and remembered the one that he had participated in last night. It all played for him quickly, and when he remembered that Gerard was safe he couldn’t help but feel relieved. Upon remembering the moment they shared afterwards, though, Frank felt a little bit sick. He wanted Gerard very much now, he knew. More than just as an employer, a friend, whatever else. He wanted to hold Gerard and kiss him and be held back. He didn’t even care that he was just seventeen. He’d be eighteen in less than a year.

                He knew, though, that he could not tell Gerard. Frank wasn’t entirely sure of how Gerard felt about him and either way, even if Frank was okay with their age difference, it didn’t make it acceptable to the rest of the world. He couldn’t ask Gerard to go through anything on his behalf. Brendon had made it seem like Gerard had already had his share of troubles, he didn’t need Frank messing up his good life. As long as he could be a part of it, Frank thought, that would be enough. If Gerard would only stay home like he had been, and let Frank be near him, it would all be okay. Frank couldn’t risk losing him again, though, so even if Gerard was going to let things with Bob go, Frank would have to get to the bottom of it.

                Frank decided to shower and go down and talk to Bob. He only took a little bit too long in the shower, thinking about Gerard holding him, and looking into his eyes, which he only felt half guilty about, because at least he wasn’t making things up this time.

                He got dressed and went downstairs, but he didn’t have to look far for Bob. He was standing in the hallway of the third floor with Mrs. Fairfax and Bandit, talking as the housekeepers moved things out of Gerard’s room. Frank walked over to them and Mrs. Fairfax held out her arm for Frank to come give her a hug.

                “Oh, Frank. We’ve had something terribly happen here,” she sighed, squeezing him too tight.

                “Really?” Frank said, looking at Bob, and he didn’t keep the edge out of his voice.

                “Gerard left his incense burn last night while he was asleep. It caught fire somehow. His whole bed was in flames,” she looked very concerned. “He’s just so lucky to be alive.” Bandit started to pull her arm back towards his room. “Oh, you’ll have to excuse me. Bandit wants to show me a design he made for Gerard’s new bedspread,” she said good-naturedly and followed the boy down the hall, leaving Frank and Bob alone.

                “Didn’t anyone hear him in the middle of the night?” Frank asked dryly.

                “No, I don’t think so. I don’t think he made much noise. It was a Friday night, though, so many of the housekeepers were off for the weekend. The closest person to the room was you. Did you hear anything, Frank?” Bob asked in a neutral tone.

                “I did,” Frank spat back. “I heard a man walking around and I heard him laugh.”

                “Hm, Mr. Way did not say he was sleepwalking. Did you leave your room?” Bob asked.

                “No,” Frank said firmly. “I locked the deadbolt instead.”

                “Probably for the best, Mr. Iero. You should be doing that every night,” he said calmly and turned and walked away.

                Frank was in shock. Was that a threat? How could he so blatantly lie to Frank when he was the one who set the fire. And how could Gerard trust a man like that? Frank walked down to Bandit’s room to ask Mrs. Fairfax where Gerard was.

                Bandit was still showing Mrs. Fairfax his drawings and architectural designs for the house.

                “Look at this one, Frank,” Mrs. Fairfax beamed. “Bandit wants to add a slide that goes from your room to his. How fun would that be?” She was clearly enjoying herself. Bandit hadn’t really warmed up to her until recently. She didn’t have children of her own, so it was nice for her to be able to bond with him.

                Frank didn’t want to spoil the mood so he said, “That’s awesome, Bandit. Maybe I’ll ask Gerard if we can do that.” Bandit was pleased that his idea was being thought of so highly and got out some more colored pencils to further embellish the design. “Hey,” Frank said, coming up to Mrs. Fairfax’s side, “where is Gerard at? I just wanted to see if he was okay.”

                Mrs. Fairfax patted him on the head. “What a sweet boy you are. I’m afraid you missed him, sweetheart. He left at around seven this morning, off to see some friends of his. I don’t think he could have gotten much sleep, so I was a bit surprised to see him go, but at least he’ll be having some personal time rather than off on a business trip.”

                “Oh,” Frank said, trying desperately to keep the sheer disappointment out of his voice. “Who is he going to see?”

                “Oh, I’ll tell you about them later. I’ve got a few calls to make to the store. We’ve got to get a whole new bed, I’m afraid. The posts on the old one are charred. You missed lunch, so I had them leave you a plate in the fridge. I’ll see you at dinner, dear,” she said, walking out.

                Frank plopped down on one of Bandit’s bean bag chairs. Bandit plopped down next to him.

                “Frank, can I ask you about your mom and dad?” Bandit said softly. He’d never really asked Frank any personal questions before, so Frank was surprised.

                “Yeah, buddy. They died when I was really little,” he said quietly.

                “Who took care of you?”

                “My aunt did for a little bit. But then I went to school. Not like your school, it was like a school with a big house attached and all the kids slept there,” Frank explained.

                “Did you like it?” Bandit asked.

                “No,” Frank said, even now wishing he could forget his whole life up until he’d met Gerard.

                “Sounds yucky to me. Do you like it here, though?” Bandit said, obviously thinking about something.

                “Yeah, of course I do, Bandit. I love being here with you,” Frank smiled and patted him on the head, ruffling his hair.

                Bandit shook his head free and giggled. “And you like Gerard?”

                “Very much,” Frank admitted.

                “He adopted me,” Bandit said. Frank nodded, unsure what he was getting at.

                “If you like it here, maybe he can adopt you, too. And we could be like brothers!” Bandit said excitedly. Frank’s face fell. Nothing like a nine year old to put you in your place.

                “Yeah, maybe. You’ve got a lot of ideas lately, huh? You keep working on those. I’m going to go get some lunch, okay?”

                Bandit nodded happily and continued drawing. Frank made his way downstairs even though he wasn’t very hungry. He found a bowl of chicken caesar salad in the fridge and sat down at the table. He stabbed his fork through the cold chicken in frustration. Of course, that’s why Gerard left so quickly. He was probably embarrassed that he’d made Frank feel like he liked him, like _that_. He needed to get out of here and spend time with people his own age.

                Frank wondered if he should text Gerard to let him know he knew where they stood. No, he decided, it would be best if he just left him alone. Any contact might seem presumptuous. He would just have to wait until Gerard came home, if he ever did. Frank tried to kick himself for being so dramatic.

                He took a (very short) walk outside, just a few laps around the house. He was feeling a thousand times better physically, if not emotionally, and he just wanted to kill some time until he could find out who Gerard was with. He knew he shouldn’t care so much, but he really couldn’t help it. He got cold after a while and, not wanting to be bedridden again, he went back inside to practice his guitar.

                Three long hours later, Frank and his blistered fingers went down for dinner. Mrs. Fairfax didn’t show up right away and Frank had to sit on his feet so he wouldn’t get up and go look for her. He was halfway through his pea soup when she finally came in, saying she’d lost track of time filing some papers. Even then, she didn’t say anything about Gerard and Frank held his tongue all the way through his mashed potatoes, but then it burst out of him.

                “So, you were going to tell me where Gerard was staying,” he said quickly and probably too loudly.

                “Oh, that’s right dear. Gerard said he was going to a holiday party at the Wentz’ estate. It’s not too far from here, but I imagine he’ll stay there for quite some time. Everyone there has an awful lot of money, the parties are very luxurious. He was there three years ago and I don’t think he came back for nearly two months. They take turns hosting, I guess, so he was spent a few weeks at each place. It was a cold winter, so I’m sure it was nice for him to have fun indoors,” she paused to cut up her steak and Frank waited patiently, but she didn’t begin again.

                “How many people usually go to the parties?” he asked.

                “Oh, I suppose quite a few. There are a few main families, a close-knit group, I guess, that host them. And then anyone who’s anyone attends. The Wentz, obviously, and the Stumps. Oh, the Ballatos, too, but they aren’t as rich anymore after their father died. It’s just their mother and the two girls, now.  I imagine they’re looking for husbands with a family fortune to make up for their company losses.”

                “How old are they?” Frank asked. Would they be looking for someone like Gerard?

                “Hm, I think maybe ten years younger than Gerard. Late twenties? I’m not sure, honey. Why do you ask?” Mrs. Fairfax turned from her broccoli to Frank.

                “I was curious if Gerard was a potential, I don’t know, suitor to them?” Frank tried to act casual.

                “Oh, I don’t know. It is quite an age gap. I don’t think Gerard is the marrying type, either. Though, the eldest sister, Lindsey is said to be very beautiful. Maybe. Gerard is one of the richer bachelors attending, I would assume. He’s one of the richest men in the state, even with donating most of it.”

                Frank looked around the expansive home and thought that he believed that. He wondered if maybe the home soon would be shared by another person, a wife. Was Gerard into women? Well, of course he was. He certainly wasn’t into Frank.

                “I bet you’re imagining those parties, huh? I know kids your age think of those things. You’re such a nice young man, working instead of off getting into trouble. You’ll make something out of yourself, that’s for sure, Frank,” Mrs. Fairfax reached across the table to pat Frank’s hand. He didn’t point out he was here working because he didn’t have another home or family.

                Mrs. Fairfax excused herself to get back to her paperwork, saying she wanted to get it all sorted away before Christmas. Frank stayed at the table and picked at his dessert, wondering what Gerard was doing right now and how he would spend Christmas and why he would leave for so long during the holidays. Even if he wouldn’t want to stay for Frank, he had Bandit. Sure, he wasn’t his real son, but he might as well be. Frank wished Gerard would treat him a little more fatherly, because he knew what it was like to not have any parents and it wasn’t a feeling he was eager for Bandit to have long-term. When Gerard came back, he would tell him that, Frank decided.

                _If_ he came back, Frank added and then kicked himself again.


	10. We'll Meet Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I've been busy with work. Plus I wasn't sure about how this chapter would go until I wrote it. I think (hope) the next one should be a bit more interesting. Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think!

 

                Two weeks came and went without any sign of Gerard. Frank’s lip was bruised from biting into it to stop himself from texting Gerard and his heart was sore from missing him. He tried to be mature about the whole situation, but it was hard for him to ignore his feelings when he was alone. Which was often. There were only two visits made to the Way home in that period, and one was a group of carolers on Christmas Eve. The other was Brendon Urie, the week after, for a guitar lesson.

                Frank was a bit surprised that he came back, actually. It wasn’t that he and Brendon hadn’t gotten along, but Brendon was still Gerard’s friend first, and with Gerard being gone he didn’t know if he’d still want to hang around the house. But he seemed very happy to see Frank again, and not just to teach him. They actually spent the first hour of his visit just talking in Frank’s room.

                Frank had asked him about the party Gerard was at, but Brendon didn’t know too much about it, having never been to one at the Wentz’. “Not my type of people,” he’d said with a shrug, but it looked to Frank that there was a story behind that. Especially because Brendon usually wasn’t one to turn down an invitation, based on his stories. Unless he wasn’t invited?

                He hadn’t meant to ask his next question, but when a lull in the conversation came, he burst out with, “Do you think Gerard is looking for a wife?” He must have caught Brendon off guard because he didn’t say anything at first. He followed with, “Or if someone was pursuing him, would he be interested?”

                Brendon had looked at Frank carefully before asking, “Who is pursuing him?”

                “Well, I don’t know, I mean…” Frank had no real evidence that anyone was.

                “You’re just— Frank, you’re really young, you know?” Brendon had started to say. “I just want you to be careful. Don’t rush into anything.” That had confused Frank to no end so he’d dropped the subject and suggested they start the lesson.

                There hadn’t been any exciting events after Brendon’s visit, which made Frank feel a bit down. If the highlight of his week was his guitar lesson, what did that say about his life? But, Frank reminded himself, that’s more than he had at Lowood. Here, at least, he also had a job that he loved.

                Bandit was off school for winter break until the Monday after New Year’s, though, so Frank didn’t have much work to occupy his time, either. He read to Bandit from his favorite books, but he had to admit to himself that he felt distant towards Bandit. He couldn’t help but think that if Gerard did get married, Bandit would more or less have a new mom, and what if there just wasn’t a need for Frank anymore? He didn’t want to strengthen the ties they’d formed only to sever them months later.

And as much as Frank loved living with Gerard and Bandit and Mrs. Fairfax, what about Bob? Frank didn’t feel safe with him in the house. If he was honest, he was a little upset that Gerard left him and Bandit alone with him. Frank wondered how Gerard could really believe he was harmless. Surely, there had to have been other similar incidents before Frank arrived.

He knew that people could definitely turn a blind eye to inappropriate behavior, though. All he had to do was look back on his own family for proof. His aunt, blinded by grief or jealousy, who knows what, decided Frank was bad and so he was bad. And in her mind, John could do no wrong, and so that’s how she saw him. Frank had been bitter about this for many years, but with the distance between him and his past life that time brought, he was able to see things more clearly. He didn’t think his aunt specifically hated him. She would not have truly loved any child in his position. Whatever life dealt him, it wasn’t his fault. If she chose to blame him for both of their problems, what could he do? He couldn’t really hold it all against her since because of her actions he did eventually end up in a place where he actually felt like he belonged.

Thinking back on his aunt and her family reminded Frank of another person in his life whom he’d mostly forgotten about: Bessy. She’d been more or less kind to Frank during his time at his aunt’s house. He’d never heard from her since, but that wasn’t too odd considering how controlling his aunt could be. He wondered if Bessy still worked for the family.

He unlocked his phone and decided he would try to find Bessy online, see what she was up to, if she wanted to maybe talk to him. He had never been extremely close to him, so he wasn’t expecting some grand reunion, but it would be nice to feel like not everyone from his past forgot about him.

Frank didn’t have a Facebook account or any other type of social app, he didn’t really see the point since he lived in the same house as everyone he was friends with. But he knew some basic information about Bessy, so he was hoping he could maybe dig up a phone number at least. He tried googling her name, but no such luck. Beatrice Smith, her legal name, pulled up way too many results.

He found a website that let him narrow it down to the city she lived in, but there were still twelve women by that name in the area. Telephone numbers were only listed for two or three, but most of them had email addresses. He’d set one of his own up and used it to send out a message to the ones on file, just a simple hello and who he was. If one of them lead to Bessy, great, and then it was up to her to decide if she wanted to reply to him.

After finishing that up, it was about time for dinner. Frank was actually a bit excited for dinner; he’d given the cook some new recipes to try out. They consisted of mainly vegetable entrées. Frank had decided to work towards becoming a vegetarian now that he could basically eat whatever he wanted. Mrs. Fairfax endorsed the idea as she still thought he needed something to engage him, even if it was just hunting for recipes.

Speaking of Mrs. Fairfax, Frank nearly bumped into her on his way into the dining room. She had her arms full of papers and folders and was typing away on her tablet while her phone buzzed from somewhere in the stack of files. She set everything down and excused herself to wash her hands. Her phone slipped out from the pile and vibrated loudly against the table. Frank glanced over from his seat and saw “Gerard” on the screen. It looked like he had sent her quite a few messages.

Finally, she came back and they all sat down for dinner. Frank couldn’t hold back this time and informed her he hadn’t meant to spy, but he’d seen Gerard had texted. She thanked Frank and then took a painstakingly long time to organize her other papers on the chair next to hers, take a long sip of red wine, and then check her messages.

“Oh my,” she exclaimed. Frank leaned in.

“What is it?” Bandit asked her from across the table, not stopping to swallow his salad.

“Chew with your mouth closed, dear,” Mrs. Fairfax reprimanded gently and then sighed and tutted some more as she read Gerard’s messages.

“Is everything okay?,” Frank asked. “With Gerard?”

“Well, I suppose it is. He must be feeling quite stupendous. He’s certainly got some big plans, boys,” she said vaguely, still staring at her screen. Frank didn’t even get a chance to question her, because she picked up her phone to make a call right away.

“Martha?” she addressed the head housekeeper who had taken the holidays off from work. “I’ll need you to come back in as soon as possible. Yes, I’m sorry. Everyone will have to, I’m afraid. Why? Well, we’re having a party! Yes, Gerard is on his way back and with guests. I don’t know how many for sure, but we’ll find out soon enough! Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow. Yes, goodbye!”

“Well,” she said, turning back to Frank. “If you haven’t heard, Gerard is indeed hosting a party for his friends, right here.”

Frank’s mouth fell open. “When?”

“Oh, naturally, he’d want to give us lots of time to prepare. So,” she sighed, “three days from now. I think we’ll all have to chip in a bit to get this place ready. Do you mind?”

Frank just shook his head because he didn’t really trust himself to talk at this point. Why would Gerard have a party here at home? Wasn’t he trying to get away from this place and from Frank? That’s what he’d reasoned, anyway. This new development really threw that theory out the window, though. What on earth was going on?

\-------------

There wasn’t actually much done to prepare that evening, but the next day, when the housekeepers and the rest of the staff got back from vacation, the Way Mansion was absolutely alive with festivity and anxious cleaning and rushed pastry-baking. Frank had never felt so busy in his life. In the morning, he helped Mrs. Fairfax send out e-mail invites to the guests, more to give directions than to formally invite, as Gerard had already done that verbally. Frank was surprised and somewhat pleased to learn that only about thirty people were attending, nowhere near the amount that he or Mrs. Fairfax expected.

On the guest list was Pete Wentz himself (though Mrs. Fairfax didn’t think he’d stay very long as he still had festivities going on at his own home), and the Stump Family, with the Trohman’s and Hurley’s, who were cousins of Mr. Patrick Stump. Mr. Smith and Mr. Weekes were also set to attend, along with a few friends of theirs. Among the other names, Frank did not miss the Ballato family, who boasted the widowed Mrs. Ballato, Amy Ballato, and Lindsey Ballato. Frank’s heart sank when he read her name.

Could this be why Gerard was throwing the party? To impress Lindsey and maybe win over the younger woman as his wife? Luckily, Frank didn’t have too much time to dwell on the situation. There were less than seventy-two hours before Gerard and company were expected and everything had to be absolutely perfect.

Frank occupied his afternoon with helping the cooks in the kitchen. Only two of the three Gerard employed were able to come in to prepare, so there was a lot of work to be done. Frank was covered in flour and smelt like vanilla and cinnamon after five hours, but they had an excellent array of cookies and sweets for the guests’ arrival.

Bandit was possibly the most excited out of everyone. He’d never been to a big party like this, but more than that he was happy for Gerard to be coming back. He wanted to show off the room which he’d helped to redecorate (his contribution was picking out the abstract watercolors to match the new bedspread and Frank had to admit they fit nicely in the room). Frank suspected he was also glad to have Gerard home simply because he missed him, even though Bandit didn’t say it directly.

Honestly, that was how Frank felt, though, too. Despite everything, all the drama with Bob and Gerard’s potential dating situation, Frank just wanted Gerard to be back home. He didn’t even mind having to put up with all this stuff as long as he could see his friend again.

One person Frank didn’t want to see was out and about as well, unfortunately. Bob was called up from his basement room to help hang ceiling decorations in the taller rooms. Normally, he kept to himself downstairs doing whatever it was he did, and Frank didn’t miss him. Despite having earlier decided to investigate Bob and his suspicious behavior, Frank kept the man at a distance. This wasn’t exactly hard, because it seemed like Bob had the same idea. Frank wasn’t sure if this was a good or a  bad thing.

Frank took advantage of all the chaos downstairs, to slink up to the third floor. He found himself in Gerard’s room and sat down on his neatly made bed. The sheets were a medium turquoise which suited the dark hues around the rest of the room. The bedding was silky soft, too, just like Gerard’s pajamas. Frank imagined it would be very comfortable to be in bed with him, whether he was wearing those pajamas or not. Frank’s head leaned back against the pillow and his eyes drifted close. Even with all the redecorating and airing out, the room still smelled like Gerard, a scent he sorely missed. It was so comforting that Frank actually fell asleep, and he didn’t wake up until someone roused him.

“Frankie?”


	11. If This is What You Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for this chapter!  
> I do want to say we're getting to my favorite part of the actual Jane Eyre, so I hope I will update sooner, it's fun to write this stuff. I haven't stuck with the story line as much as I thought I would in the beginning, but I think I like where it's going. Hopefully you do too

   “Frank, what are you doing in here?” Gerard asked, his hand on Frank’s arm.

   “I,” Frank sat up and stopped. He was still in that just-woke-up stupor and couldn’t explain until he figured it out for himself. “I must have fallen asleep, I’m sorry, Gerard. I just… wanted to make sure your room was ready for when you came back.”

   Gerard just nodded, still looking at Frank.

   “What are you doing here, though?” Frank asked. “Aren’t you coming in like, three days?”

      Gerard chuckled. “Two now, officially. It’s pretty late. I got in a bit early, just to help prepare. No one else knows I’m home yet, though. I thought I’d slip in and get a few hours of sleep before any greetings or questions. You spoiled that for me, though, I suppose,” he gave a small smile to show he wasn’t angry.

      “I’m sorry,” Frank said anyway. “I’ll go.” Frank slowly started to stand.

      “No,” Gerard said. “Stay a moment and talk with me? We haven’t talked in a long while. You didn’t text me while I was gone.”

      “I didn’t think you wanted me to,” Frank admitted.

      Gerard just nodded again. “I see.”

      Frank sat back down and Gerard went around to the other side of the bed and sat as well.

      “How was your party? Mrs. Fairfax said it’s a pretty notorious one,” Frank said quietly.

      “Is it? I guess. It was alright. Lots of people. I don’t really like that much company all the time,” Gerard traced the quilted lines of his comforter with his fingertips. 

      “But you invited them back here? Or, well, some of them.”

      “That’s right. Not so many. Or, not so many will stay here. I can’t be completely sure how many will come the first night. Word got out and people are curious of me, I think,” Gerard sighed.

      “Well, Mrs. Fairfax won’t like that. The uncertainty, I mean,” Frank paused. “Why are they curious?”

      Gerard was silent for a few moments before answering. “I think I’m a bit of a recluse. I travel a lot for work, but still most of my business is conducted over the phone. I only go oversee the projects I really care about. And a lot of them aren’t in our country, even. People here, old friends, friends of friends— I guess I don’t see them very often.”

      “Are you old friends with the Ballatos?” Frank asked. Gerard turned to look at Frank questioningly, so he added, “I heard Mrs. Fairfax talk about them. About Lindsey.”

      Gerard didn’t say anything at first and Frank thought he’d overstepped, but then Gerard smiled at him. “No, she’s a new friend of mine. What did Mrs. Fairfax tell you about her?”

      Frank thought for a second. “That she was young and beautiful, but not overly rich.”

      “Well, that’s beside the point, isn’t it? Her money?” Gerard asked, seeming to perk up a bit with the new topic.

      “What do you mean?”

      “Well, what use do I have of more money?”

      Frank felt a little ill, realizing the implication of what Gerard had just said. “I suppose you wouldn’t be concerned about such things, Sir, when looking for a partner.”

      Gerard smiled gleefully. See, Frank thought, how happy he is just talking about her. He’s madly in love.

      “I would say you are right, Frank. Now, why don’t you go off to your own bed? I’ve really got to get some sleep. Everything has to be perfect for the party, and for our special guest.”

      “For Lindsey, Sir?” Frank asked glumly.

      “Excellent deduction, Frank. Goodnight, then!” Gerard walked Frank out of the room, his hand on the small of the boy’s back to guide him.

      Frank let out a held breath when Gerard shut the door. His skin burned where Gerard had touched him, but his heart felt an even more powerful sting. Unwilling to dwell on why, he walked up to his room and closed himself inside for the night.

* * *

 

  
                The next morning was another whirlwind of work. Everyone was surprised to see Gerard at the breakfast table, except for Frank, of course, but neither mentioned that. Gerard’s special friend was not brought up again, either, until that afternoon.

                Gerard was approving the gold decorations for the second floor sitting area, one of the bigger rooms, where the party would be mostly contained. He called Frank over from across the room, where he was doing some last minute dusting.

                “Frank, give me an opinion on these, will you?”

                Frank walked over to look at the different swatches of gold streamers Gerard held out.

                “These here,” Gerard held a strand out to him, “are real gold. Or plated, anyway”

                Frank couldn’t help but be impressed, even though he didn’t exactly like the color scheme.

                “Which do you think she’d like, Frank? Or is this hue too flashy?” Gerard smiled eagerly.

                “I think they’re all, uh, elegant. Maybe you could add in the black ones, too?”

                “That’s rather drab, don’t you think? We aren’t in mourning, are we Frank?”

                “No, Sir,” Frank said, eyes to the ground.

                “Gerard. I thought we talked about that?” He patted Frank on the shoulder absent-mindedly and walked away to approve something else, probably.

                “Right,” Frank said, but Gerard didn’t hear him.

* * *

 

                Once the decorations were decided on and finished, Frank had a whole day and then some to sit around and wait. He debated going over some early work with Bandit, his teacher had sent some reading material home, but instead he pulled out his phone, planning to just mess around on that for a while. His notifications showed he’d missed a text from Brendon, though, so he opened that.

                _hey, frnkie! Ik we weren’t supposed to have a lesson this wk, but I thought we could do one tmrw @ 3? my plans changed. see you thn. brendon._

Frank thought for a minute before typing. Obviously, Gerard didn’t invite Brendon to his party on purpose, or he’d be on that list. So, he should probably tell Brendon he’s busy, otherwise when he shows up tomorrow he’ll know Gerard’s having a party. Maybe, then Gerard would invite him to come, too. It’d be great for Frank if he had someone there who actually wanted to talk to him, since it was clear Gerard would be otherwise occupied.

                _Yeah, 3 works! I’ll let Mrs. F know you’ll be staying for dinner._

                And if Gerard didn’t like it, well, too bad. Because Frank wasn’t keen on this whole party idea, anyway. And he should get a say. He lives here, too.

* * *

 

                The next day, Frank talked to Mrs. Fairfax, who was pleased to hear Brendon would be over and promised not to say anything to Gerard. She agreed when Frank suggested he was a bit busy and didn’t want to stress him out. So, that part worked out well.

                Soon, Brendon was pulling into the long driveway. Frank was downstairs waiting and he was ready with the door open as Brendon approached.

                “Hey, Frank!” he smiled brightly at his younger friend. “What’s up, dude? Why are there so many cars here?” He was motioning to the crowded driveway that wasn’t used to housing the extra staff’s vehicles.

                “Oh, Gerard’s got everyone working overtime here,” Frank said casually.

                “Gee’s back? He didn’t tell me,” Brendon said. He didn’t seem hurt, but maybe a little confused.

                “Well, you’ll have to excuse him. He’s been quite busy,” Frank explained as Brendon removed his shoes. He’d see soon enough; all they’d have to do is walk through the entryway to the rest of the lit-up and streamer-ed house. (Gerard had added a bit of black that morning, so it wasn’t exclusively gold anymore.)

                Frank started leading Brendon inside further as he made small talk, about music, the weather, whatever. “I’ll be happy when it gets warmer. I’m not built to withstand snow,” he chuckled.

                “Oh, Frank,” Gerard called out from around the corner, having heard his voice. “Just who I was looking for.”

                He walked around the wall and nearly right into Brendon, who instantly enveloped him in a hug.

                “Hey, Gee! I didn’t know you were home yet!” he said warmly, but looking for an explanation nonetheless. His eyes seemed to find one as he glanced around the halls. “Are you celebrating something?”

                Gerard paused for only the briefest of moments before continuing with, “Yes, isn’t that why you’re here?” Brendon, naturally, just looked confused, so Gerard clarified, “for the party? I didn’t hear back, I was worried something was up!” He smiled easily.

                “For real, man? Wow, well, no that’s not why I’m here, but it can be. Am I early, late? Who’s coming?” Brendon asked, excited. Frank could tell gettogethers were clearly his element.

                “Well, everyone’s coming tomorrow, officially. Just a few people. From, uh, from Pete’s,” Gerard’s eyes darted to Brendon’s face and then quickly to Frank. “But Frank. I need to talk to you. About the suit. Can I borrow him for a second?”

                Gerard didn’t wait for an answer and pulled Frank into the next room. He shifted the large bag that Frank finally noticed to his other arm and pulled open the kitchen door, guiding Frank inside.

                “What’s he doing here?” Gerard asked neutrally.

                “My lesson is today. Is that okay, Gerard?” Frank asked nervously.

                “Oh, of course. Glad he’s here. Now he can come to the party. The more the merrier,” Gerard said, only a hint of discomfort present in his tone. “I really do have a suit for you,” he added.

                “Ah. Why?” Frank questioned.

                “For the party?” Gerard said, clearly amused. “You can’t wear _that_ ,” he gestured to Frank’s skinny jeans and short sleeve, both a rich black, Frank’s current color of choice.

                “No one’s going to see me, so why can’t I wear what I want?”

                Gerard just cleared his throat. “Here,” he said, handing Frank the bag. “Have fun with your lesson.” He stepped back out of the kitchen, waving to Brendon. “We’ll catch up later?”

                “At dinner?” Brendon offered.

                “Oh, you’re staying for dinner? Perfect!” Gerard charmed and walked down the hall.

                Frank walked out of the kitchen and back down the hall to Brendon.

                “He seemed off,” Brendon comment casually.

                “I guess I wouldn’t really know what _on_ is,” Frank sighed, and they went upstairs to get his guitar.

                They didn’t talk anymore of Gerard or the party during their lesson. Frank was grateful to have something else to think about for now, even if it was just the sound of the chords he strummed out. Brendon didn’t have to tell him, he knew he was good for just a few lessons. He felt really proud at that thought.

                When dinner finally came, though, the conversation shifted back to the host. They were all seated around the table, stabbing into salmon when Brendon asked, “So, how many people are coming tomorrow?”

                Gerard chewed and swallowed before answering. “Maybe fifty, tomorrow. Maybe less. Around twenty-five, I think, who are going to stay past that.”

                “You invited them to stay. That’s generous.” Brendon isn’t mad, exactly, Frank notes, but he seems, to use his own words, ‘off’.

                “You know you’re more than welcome to stay as well,” Gerard said, carefully cutting his food.

                “Seems like a full house,” Brendon said back, studying his own plate, as well.

                “The guest rooms are all taken,” Mrs. Fairfax said, “but we could move someone around, perhaps?”

                “He can stay in my room,” Frank interjected. He could sense Brendon was feeling something, maybe excluded? “I’ll take the couch.”

                Brendon just looked at Gerard, waiting to see what he’s say. “If it’s okay with Frank, it’s okay with me,” he said with a smile.

                “Great! Thanks, Gerard. And thank you,” Brendon said, turning to Frank. “I think we’ll have a good time. I’m going to head home and get some clothes. I’ll be back later tonight.” He stood up from the table, all the while sending glances at Gerard, who pretended not to see.

                When he’d left the room, Gerard stood up quickly and said, “I’d better get back to the decorations, myself.”

                “I thought you were done?” Frank asked. He and Mrs. Fairfax had triple-checked every room.

                “You can never have too much!” he said cheerfully and left the room.

                Frank and Mrs. Fairfax exchanged looks from across the table, but then she just shook her head quickly and said, “Oh, he gets so nervous around big groups. I don’t know why he does this to himself.”

                “We don’t always make the right choices for ourselves, I guess,” Frank suggested, trying to forget about Gerard and Brendon’s odd behavior.

                “I think you will, though. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, dear,” Mrs. Fairfax smiled at him.

                Frank just nodded, lost in thought.


	12. And I Don't Long For Much, I Just Wish I Had Your Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry it's been over a month since i updated this. I've had some health issues, but I'm going to try to do at least two chapters a month from now on.  
> Let me know what you think so far!

               When Brendon came back later that evening Frank was already waiting in the entrance way to lead him upstairs to his room. He was hoping that they could get ready for bed without any further confrontation from Gerard. Hopefully, Brendon would agree.

                When he knocked on the door, Frank let him in and started to help him carry his duffle bag and guitar case up the stairs.

                “Doesn’t Gerard like pay someone to do that?” Brendon laughed.

                “Yeah, well, the only one who isn’t busy right now is Bob and,” Frank stopped. He hadn’t told Brendon about his suspicions. “And we shouldn’t bother him.”

                Brendon just shot him a weird look. “Okay. Speaking of bothering people, where’s Gee?”

                “I haven’t seen him since dinner, but honestly I’d rather leave him alone, too.” They finally reached the door to Frank’s room. “I’m glad you’re here, by the way. This whole thing is weird for me.”

                Brendon plopped down on the couch. “Trust me, it’s weird for me, too. I don’t really know these people. I didn’t really think Gerard knew them all that well, either, but I guess that’s none of my business.”

                Frank wasn’t willing to let the subject drop again, though. “Well whether it is or it isn’t, can’t you tell me what you do know about them? It seems like there’s something you’re not saying.”

                “It’s not that there’s some big back story with Pete or his friends, it’s just,” Brendon stood up to walk around the couch. “People like Pete never liked people like Gerard and I don’t know why but it seems like he’s trying to win over their approval all of a sudden.”

                “People like Gerard? Sounds to me like he and Pete are a lot alike. They’re both rich, to say the least. They apparently both like parties,” Frank shrugged.

                “They’re nothing alike,” Brendon shook his head.

                “How about Lindsey? Is she like Gerard?” Frank questioned.

                “Lindsey?” Brendon raised his eyebrows. “Ballato? I don’t know her, really. Is she coming?”

                “Yeah,” Frank sighed. “She’s basically the reason for the party. Gerard’s trying to win her over.”

                “Unbelievable,” Brendon scoffed. “Did he actually say that?”

                “He didn’t really have to. I’m not stupid.”

                “You’re right, Frank. You’re not. You deserve better than this place and all the games that come with it.”

                “This is the best place I’ve ever had, Brendon. Even if Gerard isn’t my friend anymore after he gets married. I don’t care as long as I’m here,” Frank said, only half sulking.

                “I know you feel like that now, but there’s so much more out there. Better than this place. Better than Gerard, Frank,” Brendon ran his hands through his hair and stared seriously at Frank.

                “I don’t want better. Why would you say that, anyway? Aren’t you his friend?”

                “Yeah, but I’m your friend, too.” He sat back down on the couch next to Frank.

                “Thanks,” Frank smiled. “As my friend, then, let’s not think about this party until we absolutely have to.”

* * *

 

                Unfortunately, Frank ended up thinking about the party for the rest of the night. And, when he woke up in the morning, it was still the only thing on his mind. He kept wondering what everyone would look like and how they would act. Would Gerard be different around these new friends and, if so, how would Brendon react? He was hoping he wouldn’t really have to find out, that he could just slip away after a couple minutes of satisfying his curiosity.

                That wasn’t how the day panned out, though. Gerard’s guests had started arriving at noon. Frank was able to oversee from a distance at first, but by three or four p.m. the house was overtaken with people. Gerard’s initial estimate of fifty or so people was way overshot. By six that evening, Frank guessed there were over a hundred fifty people scattered throughout the first two floors of the estate and Gerard was nowhere to be found.

                Frank had also lost track of Brendon about an hour earlier. For not liking this crowd, he sure seemed to fit right in. That left Frank either sitting in his room or watching some of the action from the stairwell, and neither were overly interesting. A little after seven, he was sitting on top of the second floor staircase and was about to get up to go back into his room when he heard something that made him stop instantly.

                “Hey Lindsey, come here!” A drunk girl shouted down the hall. So, that confirmed it then. She was here. Frank didn’t know what she looked like, but that didn’t stop him from getting up from his secluded stairwell to go try to find her. He didn’t want to talk to her or anything, he just wanted to see who she was, this girl who had caught Gerard’s interest.

                Frank immediately felt out of place in the crowded hallway. Everyone was older than him, cooler than him, and definitely way more drunk. Well, hopefully only drunk, he thought. He’d never been in this environment and now that he found himself immersed in it, he didn’t know how to react.

                He kept his head down and pushed his way down the hall, stepping in the open rooms, trying to listen for her name again. From the sitting room doorway, he thought he heard the girl who’d called for her. He squeezed through the room towards the couches, planning to sit down and listen to what was going on unnoticed. Before he got there, though, he saw Gerard.

                He was sitting in the middle of one of the leather sofas, in between a guy and a girl. The guy next to him was trying to get a different girl to sit on his lap, pulling on her arm. From the way she shrieked and giggled Frank could tell it was the same girl he’d heard earlier. Which would make the girl next to Gerard Lindsey? He looked her up and down. Yeah, that made sense.

                She had on a short plaid skirt and a tight black vest that hugged her curves. Her hair was naturally dark like Gerard’s and she wore bright red lipstick. The way she smiled and laughed and smacked Gerard’s arm when he whispered something to her told Frank she was confident, proud. That would be the type of girl Gerard wanted. Someone who could stand up to him, who knew who she was and what she wanted. Literally, everything Frank wasn’t. He reminded himself there was no point in moping over that, though, because it was pretty clear that Frank could never be what Gerard wanted since what Gerard wanted was a girl.

                Gerard looked up suddenly and caught Frank’s eye. He seemed surprised at first, but then he smiled. It wasn’t a friendly look. In case Frank had any doubt of his intentions with Lindsey, what Gerard did next definitely confirmed things. He leaned over and kissed her jaw. When she leaned into his mouth, he turned her head and kissed her lips.

                Frank felt like he was dying. Everything hurt with a pulsing pain, especially in the bottom of his stomach. He was hot all over and he felt like he was going to puke. Gerard broke the kiss and locked eyes with Frank again, licking Lindsey off his lips. Frank couldn’t make his eyes look away, so he did the next best thing and turned himself around and ran out of the room.

                Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to leave as quickly as he wanted to. Even more people had made  their way upstairs and were congregating around the landing of the stairs, making it nearly impossible for Frank to get by. When he was finally two stairs up towards the third floor, someone grabbed him by the arm. He turned quickly around to yell but he stopped short when he saw it was Gerard.

                “Where are you going, Frank?” Gerard asked, completely calmly, as if they weren’t in the middle of a party and as if he hadn’t just passionately kissed some girl.

                Frank exhaled a few shaky breaths before answering. “I’m tired. I’m going up to my room.”

                “It’s not even late yet. You should stay,” Gerard said, still like nothing had happened.

                That’s what really sent Frank over the edge. He was truly nothing to Gerard. At least, he was nothing in comparison to how he felt about Gerard. He blinked hard, trying not to lose it so obviously.

                “You’re upset, Frank,” Gerard observed, studying his face.

                “I am not,” Frank said, though he had to admit the way his voice shook wasn’t very convincing. He turned his face to the wall to hide it better.

                “Yes, you are,” Gerard noted. “Look at me, Frank.”

                Frank shook his head and took another step backwards up the stairs.

                Gerard followed him up. “Yes, you’re crying. What’s bothering you?”

                “I’m just tired. Please. I just want to go to my room.” Frank couldn’t hold back tears anymore. Being confronted was just making him feel worse.

                “Fine. You’re excused for tonight. But tomorrow and every other night I expect you to come and interact with the guests.”

                Frank didn’t even have the energy to question Gerard. He just nodded and ran up the two flights of stairs and straight into his room.


	13. Fix Your Eyes and Get Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this one, feedback is always appreciated.  
> I'll put another chapter up this month yet for sure. Will try to at least update around the 15th and then end of each month! I don't know how many chapters I have left to go, but it's definitely not close to done yet.

By the next afternoon, most of the party-goers had cleared out, leaving just Gerard’s more long-term guests for Frank to gawk at. At least now, he had Brendon with him.

                “I’m sorry I ran off last night,” Brendon said for the fourth time. When he’d eventually come back upstairs to find Frank in tears, he’d said it the first three times.

                Frank made a waving gesture with his hand. “It’s fine. I told you I wasn’t upset because you were out having fun.”

                “Yeah, why were you upset then? I wish you would just tell me,” Brendon muttered, but he wasn’t going to push any further. He’d asked Frank at least ten times already to tell him. “Oh, here, that’s Spencer. He was one of the guys I was with last night.”

                Frank nodded as Brendon waved through the dining room window at Spencer, who was outside smoking. Frank was thinking he’d go outside himself at some point; for a January day it was actually pretty mild.   

                A couple of the kitchen staff came in to start clearing the room in preparation for an early dinner, so Brendon and Frank went upstairs. They made their way down the hall to the newly-cleaned sitting area. No one else was up there yet, probably sleeping off the long night still, but Gerard had planned another eventful evening for everyone, no doubt.

                Brendon peeked his head through the doorway to survey the room. “Are you coming up here after dinner? I can stay upstairs with you if you want.”

                Frank shook his head. “Gerard said he wants me to sit in. Mrs. Fairfax said Bandit could come along with me too, because there won’t be any questionable behavior.” Brendon raised his eyebrows. “Her wording, not mine,” Frank clarified.

                “So, did you get a good look at everyone last night?” Brendon asked as the pair walked up to Frank’s room.

                “Um, not really. Still not sure who’s who. I saw Lindsey and a friend of hers. And Pete. They were all with Gerard.”

                “I thought you weren’t with Gerard last night?”

                “No, I just saw them all together.”

                “Hmm.” Brendon nodded. “Well earlier I met Lindsey. The girl she was with was probably her younger sister Amy. She’s been all over Pete, but of course he’s only interested if he’s drunk.”

                “What did you think of her?” Frank asked in what he hoped was a casual tone.

                “Amy? Well, I guess she was—“

                “No, I mean Lindsey,” Frank interrupted.

                Brendon shot Frank a look but answered him anyway. “She was pretty. Acted haughtier than she had a right to, somehow. I don’t know, not my favorite person.”

                Frank could get behind that statement. When they were at his door, Frank opened his mouth to ask what Brendon thought Gerard thought of her, but Brendon beat him to it.

                “I haven’t talked to Gerard about her, Frank. I haven’t even seen him at all. Actually, maybe I should go find him. Not to ask about that,” he added when Frank perked up. “Just got some stuff I was meaning to bring up. You stay up here, though, you look beat. I’ll come get you when it’s time for dinner?” Brendon offered.

                “Yeah, that sounds okay. See you later,” Frank agreed and went into his room, listening to Brendon walk down the steps. He wondered why Brendon was being so vague, but didn’t put too much thought into it. Like Brendon said, he was beat.

 

* * *

 

                Brendon ended up bringing a plate upstairs for Frank to spare him from the formal dinner. Bandit ate upstairs with the two, also, not wanting to sit through it all. Frank picked at his food for a bit, but then decided he should focus on getting ready. The suit Gerard had bought him still hung on the closet door. He went into his bathroom to try it on.

                It was an expensive black outfit, but more of a casual style so he wouldn’t be overdressed next to some of the guests. Luckily, there was no tie as he couldn’t stand trying to get them knotted right. The shirt was a silky dark grey, without being too flashy, and Frank did admit it looked nice against his skin. Gerard definitely had good taste and kept Frank’s monotone preferences in mind.

                When he came back out, Brendon had changed his own plain jacket to a deep purple sport jacket that had a shimmer to it when he moved. Brendon did tend to veer away from more traditional styles, though, so Frank wasn’t surprised.

                “You look good, Frank,” Brendon smiled.

                “Thanks. You do, too.”

                “Me too?” Bandit asked with a big smile. He’d put on his favorite black polo shirt he liked to wear because it looked like one of Frank’s.

                “Yeah, you too!” Frank smiled back just as big. “Is it time to go down?” he turned to Brendon.

                “Probably, yeah, if we’re ready. And it looks like we are.”

                The noise from the second floor could be heard as they made their way down, but it wasn’t overpowering like it had been last night. Really, it was more talking and laughter than loud music and shouting. Which was good, not only for Bandit, but also for Frank, who still felt nervous.

                He’d had a whole day to think about what had happened with Gerard, though, and really he was at peace with it. Sure, he’d been upset last night, but he wrote it off as just being generally overwhelmed from the party. He might have thought he’d had feelings for Gerard, but really, he was going to get over those if he wasn’t already. He was honestly happy for Gerard and for Lindsey, whatever he thought of her. If this is what Gerard wanted, Frank was a good enough person to want it for him, too.

                Really, the only problem was the embarrassment he felt when he remembered how he’d imagined Gerard was interested in him as well. His cheeks almost reddened at the thought as he descended the last of the stairs and followed Brendon down the hall, all while holding Bandit’s hand to keep him from running ahead.

                Brendon entered the room first, then Bandit, and then finally Frank made his way through the door. He instinctively scanned the room for Gerard, but couldn’t see him. That, of course, didn’t bother Frank, or that’s what he told himself. Gerard did emerge, wanted or not, just a moment later, from the corner of the room.

                “Glad you could all make it down here,” he smiled like a true host. His eyes met Frank’s for the first time since last night and Frank immediately felt all of yesterday’s emotional turmoil rush back to him. He squeezed his free hand into a fist, digging his nails into his skin. Anything to distract him from Gerard.

                But of course, life was against Frank and so Gerard put his arm around Frank to usher him further into the room. Frank saw Spencer and two other men wave Brendon over and as much as he didn’t want to be separated, he gave a stiff smile when Brendon said he’d catch up with Frank in a minute. Bandit stayed by his side, though, so he at least had a hand to hold.

                Gerard lead them to one of the sofas Frank had seen Gerard on the night before and motioned for them to sit. Across from them on a long leather sectional, several people were talking animatedly with drinks in their hands.

                “Gee, come sit down by me.” That was Lindsey, and next to her, was the girl who was probably her sister Amy, which Frank confirmed when Lindsey said, “Scoot over, Amy.”

                Amy obliged and moved closer to Pete, who apparently couldn’t be bothered to notice, his eyes staying glued to his phone. Next to Pete was a man with orange-ish hair who was speaking quietly with a curly-haired brunette, probably his girlfriend. They seemed to be nice people, Frank thought. The man looked up and smiled at Frank before continuing his conversation. So far, he was the only one who had acknowledged Frank’s existence.

                Gerard ended up sitting down between Lindsey and someone Gerard called Joe. Probably Mr. Trohman, a name Frank remembered from the guest list. Joe and Gerard chatted for a few minutes about art or something adult-like and polite while Pete went on texting and Frank twiddled his thumbs around wishing he’d brought his phone down so he could look busy as well.

                Bandit yawned, more out of boredom than tiredness, Frank guessed, as it wasn’t quite his bedtime yet. Lindsey finally seemed to notice the two boys sitting across from her.

                “Gerard,” she leaned closer to him all while peering at Frank and Bandit, “who are these?”

                Gerard turned from Joe to look over to see what Lindsey meant. “Ah, this is Bandit, the little parasite that feeds off me,” he laughed.

                “Hello,” Bandit smiled, happy that someone was paying attention to him now.

                “And the other one?” Lindsey forced a strained smile on her face.

                Gerard had gone back to talking with Joe, though, leaving Frank to introduce himself.

                “My name is Frank. I work for Gerard, as Bandit’s tutor,” he explained quietly. Still, it seemed to get everyone else’s attention.

                “Hi,” the redheaded man said. He reached across the coffee table separating the couches to offer Frank his hand. “Patrick, and this is my wife, Elisa.” She smiled at Frank, too.

                Lindsey begrudgingly introduced herself as well. “I’m Lindsey and this is Amy, Pete, and Joe,” she said, gesturing to each person. She didn’t seem to have much else to say to Frank, though, and struck up a conversation with her sister.

                Patrick stood up to get another drink. Frank shook his head when he offered to grab Frank a soda. He was so anxious he was worried he’d spill it.

                Bandit had walked over to sit by Elisa, who was telling him that she had a little boy at home if Bandit would like to meet him sometime. Frank was happy Bandit was getting along with everyone so easily, but that left him rather alone.

                Lindsey and Amy had erupted into giggles, causing Gerard to look over again and Pete to finally look up. “I must know what’s so entertaining,” Gerard said.

                “Oh, it’s nothing! Amy and I were just reminiscing about the tutors we had when we were young,” Lindsey said.

                “Oh look, it’s Mother! Don’t let her know what we were saying, she gets so carried away with the topic!” Amy laughed.

                Sure enough, when Frank turned around to look, Patrick had returned with a very elegant woman who was probably in her late fifties, though she didn’t seem out of place in her black dress.

                “Oh, what are you girls going on about?” she sighed jokingly.

                Her daughters didn’t volunteer the subject, but Gerard was more than happy to. “Tutors, my dear lady. They were going on about tutors.”

                “Oh, tutors,” Mrs. Ballato dragged out the word as she sat down on the other end of the couch Frank was on. “Don’t even get me started on tutors. What a waste of money!”

                “What’s the story behind that?” Gerard asked.

                Lindsey and Amy laughed again. Finally, Lindsey explained, “When we were very young we had a French tutor and a Spanish tutor who came over in the afternoons and would take turns working with either of us. Neither of us liked Señorita, so we told Mother that she was making eyes at Monsieur instead of working with us. Mother fired both of them straight away!” she giggled.

                “It was Lindsey’s idea!” Amy defended, when some of the group made faces. Frank personally did not show his distaste outwardly, but the sisters’ behavior reminded him of his own cruel cousins.

                “Well, of course I fired them,” Mrs. Ballato began. “You can’t have that type of influence around young children! You’ve got to be very careful with tutors. If they aren’t weaseling out of their work or stealing your silver, then they’re off flirting with each other or worse,” she paused, “their boss.” She pointed at Gerard.

                “Gerard’s hired a tutor,” Pete finally chimed in.

                “Oh,” Mrs. Ballato sighed. “Say it isn’t so!”

Frank kept his eyes on the floor, feeling very awkward and more than a little angry. Everyone who had the decency to looked a little uncomfortable for Frank, but it was Elisa who came to his rescue.

                “Frank, right next to you there,” she pointed, “works with this wonderful little boy. Bandit’s been telling me about all the work they do and I’m sure Frank is an excellent tutor.” Frank gave her a small smile to say thank you, but he still felt very uneasy.

                “Hm,” Mrs. Ballato turned to regard him. “I’m sure you’re a fine young man,” she said after a moment, but with no conviction.

                Frank was, fortunately, saved from having to give an actual thank-you, because Brendon walked over and sat between him and Lindsey’s opinionated mother. He mentioned how much he liked the champagne that was being passed out, which led to a riveting discussion of which drink was best for which occasion that Frank couldn’t care less about. What he did notice, however, was Gerard’s hand, which casually crept all over Lindsey, from on her shoulder to her elbow to resting on her knee. He felt that unbearable pang in his chest again.

                He looked over to Bandit, if only to have anything else to look at, and was happy to discover that he was beginning to nod off.

                “Excuse me,” he said, getting up and moving towards him.

                “Where are you going?” Gerard said suddenly, a harshness to his voice.

                “Bandit’s tired. I’m going to go take him to bed,” Frank said, helping the yawning boy to stand up.

                Gerard didn’t say anything back, just nodded. He pulled Lindsey tighter to him, though, which Frank couldn’t help but notice sadly before walking towards the doorway. Brendon called out that he’d see him upstairs in a bit and Frank waved to say alright and then half-walked, half-carried Bandit to his bedroom upstairs.

                As Frank was tucking him in, Bandit asked sleepily, “Does Gerard like that girl?”

                “Lindsey? I think so,” Frank nodded, turning on the night light. He more than thought so, but he didn’t want to worry Bandit.

                “She’s pretty, but she isn’t a very nice lady,” Bandit said. “Elisa was nice. Too bad Gerard doesn’t like her instead.”

                “Hm, well, she’s already married,” Frank explained. “But don’t worry about it, okay? Nothing happens overnight. Just get some sleep.”

                “Goodnight, Frank,” Bandit sighed. “I love you.”

                Frank smiled and shut off the light. “Love you too.”

                On his way upstairs, all Frank could think about was how much he would miss his family when the new Mrs. Way fired him.


	14. I Wanna See What Your Insides Look Like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is still interested in reading this, please please please comment and let me know, and I'll do my best to finish it!

The next day, Frank woke up to an empty room. He figured he’d slept in, but the clock only read eight AM, so Brendon must have gotten up unusually early. Frank shrugged and wiped the sleep from his eyes and slipped out of bed and into the shower. It was almost better that he was alone with his thoughts – Brendon had been acting so odd last night after he’d stumbled back into Frank’s room last night. Frank could tell he’d been drinking and he was going off about something. The importance of honesty or whatever.

Frank toweled off and put on his everyday clothes, glad for the familiar plain fabrics after last night’s formal wear. His stomach rumbled, so he decided to go get some cereal for breakfast. As he was making his way down the stairs, he heard raised voices coming from one of Gerard’s rooms. He felt nervous despite willing himself to stay calm. It definitely wasn’t Bob’s voice, though. It sounded like Gerard was arguing with Brendon. He was just about to make his way to the second floor, not wanting to eavesdrop on their personal conversation, when the door flung open and Brendon rushed out.

“You’re up to something,” Brendon yelled. “I know that much.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gerard replied, palms out, obviously trying to calm his friend.

“Right. You know, I wonder what-“ Brendon paused suddenly, his eyes landing on Frank, who was still at the bottom of the stairs. Brendon shook his head and didn’t say anything else, just pushed past Frank to make his way back upstairs.

“Frank,” Gerard said, alarmed.

“I’m sorry,” Frank rushed out. “I wasn’t spying on you. Or I wasn’t trying to, I mean.”

Gerard nodded. He looked very pale all of a sudden, much more so than usual. He leaned back against the door frame and bent down so that his hands came to rest against his knees.

Frank moved closer to him, nervous. “Are you all right, Gerard?” He reached out to touch his arm, before realizing what he was doing. Before he could snatch it back, though, Gerard brought his other hand up to clutch Frank’s where it rested.

“I’m afraid I’ve been dealt a blow, Frank,” Gerard said cryptically. He stood upright. Frank’s hand slid off his arm but Gerard caught it again and laced his fingers between Frank’s.

“You mean you and Brendon fighting?” Frank asked, trying not to look at their hands. He knew he needed to be a friend for Gerard, now, in his time of need.

“I mean-“ Gerard started but didn’t finish. He paused and took several deep breaths and then turned to look at Frank in the eyes. “Tell me, Frank, if everyone here abandoned me, would you do the same?”

“Of course, not,” Frank answered immediately. He didn’t have to think about it at all. “I would never leave your side, Gerard.”

“What if,” Gerard began. “What if I had done something awful?”

Frank met Gerard’s eyes. “Have you done something awful?” Gerard didn’t answer, apparently wanting to keep his hypothetical secrets to himself. “I still wouldn’t leave you, Gerard. I would try to help you overcome whatever it is you had done,” Frank answered finally.

“But if I asked you to do something for me,” Gerard went on, “that was wrong, you wouldn’t be able to do that thing, would you?”

Frank didn’t say anything right away. He didn’t think he could answer Gerard without knowing what this mysterious horrible thing was. He hoped that he would do what was right in any situation, but he honestly didn’t know if he would ever be able to refuse Gerard. “I don’t want to do anything wrong,” he said truthfully.

“Of course,” Gerard nodded. He dropped Frank’s hand and crossed his arms, looking away.

“If it’s about Brendon, I could talk to him for you, if you wanted,” Frank offered. He’d do anything to cheer Gerard up.

“No, I’d rather you didn’t. Put it out of your mind. But here’s something you can do for me, Frank,” Gerard said, seeming to perk up suddenly. Frank nodded for him to continue. “I’ve got to go into the city for the day. I won’t be back until late. I’ve hired some,” he paused, thinking, “ _entertainment_ for the day. Will you keep an eye on the guests and make sure things go smoothly while I’m away?”

“I’m sure Mrs. Fairfax will be doing that anyway,” Frank answered, but then was quick to add, “but I’ll make sure, too.” He wanted Gerard to know that he would take the task seriously.

“Great,” Gerard smiled and gave Frank a quick pat on the shoulder. “It’s important that we take care of our special guest.”

Frank gave the best fake smile he could muster, but Gerard was already walking down the stairs.

* * *

 

Frank spent most of the morning and afternoon in the living room with the guests. He didn’t particularly want to, but he’d told Gerard he would keep an eye on things, so he felt obligated to follow through, however uncomfortable it might be. Mrs. Ballato kept peering over at him from across the room and he did his best not to peer back, and even tossed in an occasional small smile when she stared for an especially long time. She was probably watching to make sure he wasn’t about to slip a candlestick in his pocket and run off, Frank thought, rolling his eyes.

He wished Brendon was around to make the situation less uncomfortable, or at least to give him someone to chat with, but he hadn’t seen him since this morning. Frank caught him in the hall again but he’d refused Frank’s attempts to chat, saying he needed some space right now. Frank tried not to be offended, it was obviously about the fight with Gerard, but he couldn’t help taking it a little personally.

The sound of loud, clunking footsteps down the hall interrupted his thoughts. The room had quieted down enough that the other guests heard them, too, and paused their conversations to see what was going on. A man burst into the room, trailed by a frantic Mrs. Fairfax. Frank stood up right away in case she needed help with whatever this was.

“I have arrived,” the man said dramatically, “to tell your fortunes!” Frank gave the man an uncertain once-over. He didn’t look like a fortune teller, exactly. Frank thought he looked more like a homeless person than anything else, all tattered clothes and holey boots.

“You’ll do no such thing!” Mrs. Fairfax shouted over him, obviously loosing her patience. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, please.” Her please was hissed through gritted teeth and Frank felt that he should probably step in.

“Is this the entertainment Gerard hired?” he asked her quietly.

“Entertainment? Well, he never said anything to me about this,” Mrs. Fairfax said, still eyeing the so-called psychic suspiciously.

“I have been asked here by one Mr. Way,” the man bellowed out. “I will not leave until all fortunes have been foreseen!”

Frank and Mrs. Fairfax shared a look, but Frank said, “We should probably just let him do his spiel. Gerard did say he had something like this planned.”

“All right,” Mrs. Fairfax agreed, in a tone that made clear she did not actually agree at all. “I’ll put him in the next room over. If any of you,” she addressed the room, “want to take part in this, you do so at your own risk.”

Amy and Lindsey squealed delightedly. “A real fortune teller!” Amy shrieked. “He looks genuine, that’s for sure. I’ll go first!” She stood up, but Lindsey pulled her back down onto the chaise they’d been sharing.

“No, I’ll go. I should make sure it’s the real deal before any of you waste your time,” she said haughtily and Frank struggled to hide his annoyance. He really should try to like her, with her being Gerard’s future wife and all.

She was gone a long time. After twenty minutes, or so, Frank was debating whether or not he should go and check on her. Gerard had asked him to keep an eye on things, after all. Though he doubted Gerard would hire anyone who was a creep. Then again, he did keep Bob around.

Luckily, Lindsey returned unharmed, but she wore a scowl on her red lipsticked-mouth.

“Well?” Amy asked eagerly. The other guests all turned to look, too, curious of her official opinion.

“He’s obviously a fraud,” she pouted. Everyone seemed disappointed. “You can go see for yourselves, of course, he’s still here.” She sat back down on the chaise and grabbed a magazine, obviously trying to seem unaffected. Amy looked at her for a moment, clearly debating her next move, but then she got up quickly and rushed to the next room. Lindsey just flipped the page and didn’t engage with anyone else.

Throughout the course of the afternoon, each guest had gone in to see the psychic. Everyone but Lindsey seemed pleased with the result. “He knew all sorts of stuff about me!” Patrick had exclaimed. “He told me about the dog I had as a kid, even.”

Lindsey just tutted and mouthed “tricks” under her breath.

As the sun was setting, Mrs. Fairfax came back, eager to show the man out. She came back into the living room, though, looking severely irritated. “Our magic man says he won’t leave until he’s told everyone’s fortune,” she sighed at Frank.

“I think he has, though. Even Pete’s,” Frank remarked, surprised that he’d put down his phone long enough to talk to the guy.

“He’s asked for you, by name,” Mrs. Fairfax said in a pained voice.

“Why would he want to talk to me?” Frank asked, confused.

“I don’t know, but it’s nearly time for supper. Would you mind just humoring him so we can get him out of here?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Frank shrugged, and he made his way next door.

The man had set up the small office to look rather mysterious. There was a glittering purple cloth over the desk and a large crystal ball on top of that. The lights were dimmed and a red curtain was hung, partitioning the room.

“Ah, young Frank,” the psychic whispered without looking up.

“That’s me,” Frank said, trying to be patient. “I don’t really buy into these sort of things, just so you know.”

“A non-believer,” the man remarked. “You’ll believe soon enough. I know all sorts of things about you. You teach Mr. Way’s son, Bandit, do you not? And you come from a boarding school, Lowood?”

“Common knowledge,” Frank replied.

“I know much more than that,” the man said, rubbing his crystal ball for show.

“All right, like what?” Frank asked. The man pointed to a paper at the edge of the desk. It informed him that fortunes cost ten dollars. “Of course,” Frank rolled his eyes. Still, he wanted this guy to leave so he fished the money out of his pocket. “Now, tell me.”

“I see a boy who hasn’t lived a happy life. No family to care for him. No friends. Well, maybe there are friends, after all?” the man prompted. Frank shrugged – he wasn’t giving any hints. “You are fond of your employer, Mr. Way?”

“Yeah, of course. I like everyone here,” Frank nodded.

“Yes, I see how you bond with your pupil and with the old woman, Fairfax. Another man, too, who gives you music lessons, has become your friend, no?”

“Yes, I’m friends with Brendon, too,” Frank agreed.

“But you are especially fond of Mr. Way,” the man continued. “I see how you look at him-“

“I am grateful,” Frank cut him off. “He is a kind employer. That’s all.”

The man shook his head. “I see more than that in my crystal ball. I see that you saved his life from some horrible danger. A fire, perhaps?”

“So?” Frank shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.

“So, you must be very close to him after such an experience.”

“I guess,” Frank said, trying to remain neutral.

“And now, your dear friend is to be married, most certainly taken away from you forever. How does that make you feel?” the psychic leaned forward.

“I feel happy for him, if he is to be married,” Frank gritted out.

“No other emotions? Jealousy, perhaps?”

Franks cheeks burned red and he was glad for the dimmed lights. “What are you getting at?” he demanded defensively.

The man shrugged and gave him a mysterious smile. Frank stood up to leave, having had quite enough of being mocked.

“Wait,” said a voice and Frank’s stomach dropped. Gerard peeked out from behind the red curtain. Frank sat back down, gripping the arms of the chair too tightly in his hands.

“Thank you for your services,” he flashed a smile at the psychic, who was packing up his things. “You’ll send me a bill?” The man nodded and was out the door a moment later. Gerard took his place behind the desk, opposite Frank. Frank didn’t trust himself to say anything yet, so he just waited, glaring at Gerard.

“What are you so angry for?” Gerard chuckled at him.

Frank took several quick breaths before saying, “You know what I’m angry about. You tried to, to trick me into saying things that I didn’t mean!”

“I was doing no such thing!” Gerard said, still cheerful.

“Yes you did!” Frank said, his voice nearly breaking. He felt so embarrassed that he might cry or pass out or something.

“Oh, come on, Frank! I was just having a bit of fun!” Gerard said, realizing how upset Frank was. “I didn’t mean anything by it!” Frank just glowered and sunk into the chair, crossing his arms. “Wasn’t it fun seeing everyone so excited by their fortunes?”

Frank shrugged. He didn’t care all that much about the guests’ excitement. “Not everyone enjoyed it,” he said, thinking of Lindsey.

Gerard didn’t seem too bothered. “I notice Brendon didn’t stop by. Did he leave?”

“I don’t think so. His stuff is still in my room. I haven’t seen him all day, though,” Frank said.

Gerard’s eyebrows furrowed but he didn’t respond. He looked upset, like earlier, and as mad as Frank was, he still didn’t want Gerard to be sad. “Come on,” he said, standing up and opening the door. “Supper’s probably ready and you should probably try to cheer up Lindsey. She’s been really irritated since she came in here.”

He hated to talk about her, but he wanted to dispel any ideas Gerard may have gotten about him being jealous, even if it was the truth. Besides, Lindsey would be sure to take his mind off of his fight with Brendon.

Gerard just sighed. “Okay, Frankie. Whatever you say.”


	15. I'll Never Let Them Hurt You, I Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will update as soon as I have another chapter written!

That night, Frank was woken up by a blood curdling scream. He bolted upright in bed, wondering if he’d dreamed it. He glanced around the room frantically. The alarm clock informed him that it wasn’t night at all, but very early morning. The empty mattress on the floor informed him that Brendon had never made it back to his room last night.

Frank threw a robe on over his t-shirt and sweats. Dream or not, he had to investigate for Gerard’s sake. The floor below his was silent, though. He continued onto the second floor. Some of the guests had come out of their rooms and begun to congregate in the hallway. Obviously, the scream had been real – not a dream at all. A sick feeling spread over Frank, his stomach clenching painfully. He had to find Gerard. He pushed through the guests in the hallway and headed towards the stairs, ignoring glares from the Ballatos.

He wasn’t quite to the stairs, but he could hear someone coming up. Before he even had time to consider who it might be, Gerard popped around the corner. He looked terrified, Frank thought, but only for a second. As soon as he was off the stairs and in front of the crowd, he put on a winning smile.

“Everyone, calm down,” he hushed his guests, holding his hands up. “Now, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure you all heard that awful scream and thought the worst, but there was nothing sinister behind it. One of my staff had a nightmare, a terror, really, and that’s all that it was. He’s awake now, and calmed down, and trying to get back to sleep. I suggest you all do the same!”

“Must have been some nightmare,” Lindsey muttered. “That was a horrific sound!”

Gerard walked towards her, his tone soothing. “I’m so sorry, my dear. Let me walk you back to your room and make sure you’re all right,” he cooed, arm around her shoulders as he guided her back down the hall. Frank saw Mrs. Ballato eyeing them and she seemed pleased. Why wouldn’t she be, Frank thought. Gerard is definitely a step up financially.

Several minutes later, everyone was back in their rooms. Frank didn’t go back upstairs, though. He still wanted to talk to Gerard and make sure that everything was actually okay. If the nightmare story was true, it must have been Bob that screamed, and any situation that involved Bob was bound to be more complicated than Gerard originally let on.

Finally, Gerard returned from Lindsey’s room and walked towards Frank. He didn’t stop to talk to him, just caught his hand and pulled him along downstairs.

“What’s really going on?” Frank asked quietly, the sick feeling returning to his stomach.

“There’s been an accident,” Gerard said tensely.

“Bob?” Frank questioned, though he already knew the answer. Gerard didn’t say anything, which Frank took as a confirmation. Suddenly, he had a chilling thought. “Brendon,” he whispered.

Gerard looked back at Frank, still moving forward. He didn’t have to say anything. Frank saw in his eyes that he was right.

Gerard led Frank through the dining room to the kitchen, going from there to the pantry, and then stopping at a plain door which Frank assumed led to the basement. He’d hoped he wouldn’t ever have to go down there, but if Brendon was in trouble, he knew he needed to be brave.

Gerard turned to look at Frank. “Can you handle blood or will you get sick?” he asked quickly.

Frank grimaced but tried to look reassuring. “I can handle it, I think.”

Gerard nodded. “You can’t scream. When you see what’s going on, you can’t scream, Frankie.” He didn’t say anything else, just opened the door and led Frank down the stairs.

The stairs led into a large room that seemed to function as a maintenance slash storage area. Tools were scattered around and there were shelves and boxes and odds and ends lining the wall. Gerard led Frank past it all to a door on the other end of the room. He pushed it open and guided Frank through. It looked to be a bedroom, simply furnished but homey. Frank guessed that this is where Bob slept. There was a large tapestry hanging on one wall and Gerard grabbed a hold of it and moved it to the side, revealing a locked steel door. Gerard grabbed a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, holding it open for Frank.

Frank was not prepared for what he saw. He likely would have screamed but Gerard clamped his hand over his mouth and shushed him. “Calm down, Frank. Take a breath and get your wits about you. I need your help.”

Frank nodded and surveyed the scene. The room was a mess, throw pillows and books and glass on the floor. There was one dim lamp next to a large couch in the center of the room. Most alarmingly, there was one pale, bloodstained, shaking man on that couch, muttering and shaking and holding a bloody rag up to his chest.

Frank lurched forward. “Brendon!” Brendon clutched at his arms but didn’t seem to really recognize Frank. He moaned quietly and Frank swept his hair out of his eyes. “What on earth happened?” he questioned Gerard.

Finally, Brendon addressed Frank. “I’ll tell you what happened. He tried to claw my fucking heart out. With his teeth! He said he was going to drink my f-fucking blood,” Brendon sobbed.

“Quiet!” Gerard snapped, making both Frank and Brendon jump. “You won’t say a word while I’m gone, or I might not be persuaded to come back with help, after all!” he shouted, but his eyes said otherwise. Frank could tell he was worried about his friend. “Hold pressure on the wound, Frank. I’ll get some clean rags,” he said and he ran out of the room.

Frank did as instructed. “Bob did this to you, didn’t he?” Frank asked Brendon, but he just moaned in response. Either he was following Gerard’s no talking rule or he just couldn’t muster up the strength for one more word, Frank wasn’t sure which.

Gerard returned with several white rags and a bowl of water. He motioned for Frank to give him the bloody ones and he leaned down and inspected the gruesome gash on Brendon’s chest. “It isn’t really as bad as you’re making it out to be, Bren. It doesn’t seem to be bleeding very much anymore. By the time I get back with the doctor, you might even be feeling better.” Frank doubted that very much but didn’t say anything.

Gerard turned to talk to Frank. “Can you stay with him while I go get help?”

“Yes, but what about Bob? What’ll stop him from doing this to me or someone else? Where is he even, do you know?” Frank asked, unable to keep all of the anger he felt out of his voice.

“Any danger is locked behind a door which is locked behind a door which is locked behind that door,” Gerard said, pointing to another steel door that Frank hadn’t noticed at first. “You’ll be safe here alone. I won’t be gone long, maybe an hour at most. Okay?”

Frank hesitated and Gerard gripped his shoulder tightly, asking again, “okay?”

“Okay,” Frank nodded, and with that, Gerard was gone.

* * *

 

Brendon did calm down significantly as time went on. Frank, on the other hand, was burning up with curiosity and fear and whatever else was running ramped around his chest, causing it to thump so loudly he could hardly think over it. He didn’t try to ask Brendon any questions, though, figuring it was probably best for his health if he just rested for a while. Frank just continued to dab at his chest, wringing out the rag in the dish of water, and then reapplying it.

Every so often, he would hear a muffled bang or grunt, which really scared him. Luckily, Brendon didn’t seem to bothered by these random noises. Unless, Frank considered, it was only because he was too out of it from pain and exhaustion, which, in that case, wasn’t very lucky at all.

Still, Brendon made it through and was still breathing and conscious when Gerard got back with a doctor around an hour later. Frank moved out of the way to let the man examine him.

“He got you pretty  good, huh?” the doctor chuckled. Frank didn’t really think now was the time for humor, but he wasn’t about to say so and risk upsetting the man who was here to save Brendon’s life.

“I didn’t think it looked _that_ bad, really,” Gerard offered. Frank was pretty sure Brendon cursed at him under his breath but Gerard didn’t react.

“No, it’s not the worst bite I’ve seen. Still, he took a good chunk out here – that’s the worst of it. A little further over and it might have been a lot messier, though,” the doctor said. Frank hated how he was treating this like it was so _normal_. “I should probably take him back with me. It’s still going to be a week or so before he’s all healed up. Unless you want to keep him here and look after him.”

“No,” Gerard said quickly. “I think he’s caused quite enough trouble here for now.”

The doctor bandaged the wound and gave Brendon something pinkish to drink, which he said would ease the pain. Then, he and Gerard helped Brendon up the stairs and out the side door that led to one of the garages. Frank helped Brendon into the back seat while Gerard went back inside to get one of his drivers to take them back to wherever it was that the doctor came from. Frank wasn’t sure and he didn’t think now was the time to ask.

Gerard and Frank watched them pull out of the garage and start down the long driveway. The sun was beginning to come up and Frank guessed it was around six a.m. He fidgeted nervously, unsure of what to say to Gerard after something like this.

“Walk with me for a bit?” Gerard asked, finally.

“Okay,” Frank agreed.

They left the garage and started along the shoveled path towards the woods. The morning air bit at Frank’s face and blew threw his robe, chilling him thoroughly. He’d forgotten he wasn’t exactly dressed for the elements.

“Oh,” Gerard seemed to realize it then, too. He shrugged out of his winter jacket and helped Frank into it. He had a sweater on underneath, so Frank didn’t feel completely guilty, but he still felt a little bad.

“You’ll be cold, now,” he said.

“A little, but I probably won’t get sick like you would,” Gerard shot him a small smile. Frank knew it was true.

“You keep helping me when I need it most, Frank,” he said quietly, after they’d been walking for a bit. “I don’t know how to repay you. You’ve become so,” he paused, “so _essential_ to me, you know.”

“You don’t have to repay me or anything dramatic,” Frank said. “I wanted to help Brendon.” Gerard nodded at him. “And you.”

“I wish you would do something about Bob, now, though,” Frank went on. “I don’t like that he’s still here. I worry all the time, about you and everyone else. I can never really feel safe.”

Gerard stopped, looking pained. “Frank, you know you were safe down there. I never, _never_ would have put you in a position where you were in danger. I would never have left my lamb alone with a wolf,” he said, tugging Frank into a hug. It felt intimate and nice, but Frank reminded himself that Gerard was just feeling sentimental after this morning’s traumatic events.

He let Frank go and they continued walking, moving back towards the house now.

“This place is so beautiful,” Frank commented, looking around. Even in the middle of winter, it was breathtaking and huge and peaceful and warm all at once. “I like living here.”

Gerard’s face lit up. “Do you think it’s suitable for a spouse, then, Frank? Do you think if I invited another to live at my side, that they would appreciate it as much as I do?”

They reached the garage again. Frank didn’t meet Gerard’s eyes when he said, “Yes, I’m sure Lindsey will love it.” He shuffled out of Gerard’s jacket, handed it back to him and went inside, leaving Gerard alone.

Truthfully, he didn’t think that Lindsey would love it all that much. He’d overheard her commenting to Amy yesterday about the things she might change if she were to take over the role of lady of the house. It sounded like she wanted to redecorate basically everything. That would be wrong, though. She’d take all of the _Gerard_ out of the house and then it wouldn’t be home anymore at all.

Frank sighed. He’d better get used to it. If they let him live here at all after they were married, of course.


	16. Can't Find My Way Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you like it! Another update soon ish.

Several days went by and Frank had no idea how Brendon was doing. He was pretty sure that Gerard would tell him if he’d died, or gotten significantly worse, but when he’d pulled Gerard aside yesterday to ask about it, Gerard had just shrugged him off and said, “not now”. Which just made Frank feel even worse and even sulkier than he already did.

Today, he’d decided that he would just avoid Gerard altogether and stay up in his room. If Gerard didn’t want to talk to him, Frank resolved that he would not be a nuisance. He’d been flipping through channels on his TV all morning and snacking on leftovers he’d stockpiled in his room so that he wouldn’t have to make trips downstairs to eat.

After his fifth episode of _How It’s Made_ , however, he was feeling less resolute and was considering going downstairs to wander around or do anything other than stare at Gerard from across the room. He heard his phone ping then, and saw an email alert, which he figured he should read to kill some time, if nothing else.

He was glad he checked it, though, because it turned out to be important. It was a reply from one of the Bessy’s he emailed and it seemed like this was the right one.

 _Frank_ , the email read,

_I am so happy to hear from you. I have been trying to get your aunt to let me contact you for some time now. I wish I had good news to give, but things are very dark here._

_Your cousin John passed away last month. He had taken to drugs and a party lifestyle while you were away at school. He suffered an overdose and your aunt found him in his apartment days later._

_She has not taken his death well. In fact, she’s gotten so ill that she hasn’t been out of bed in weeks. She has been sickly for the past few years but her grief is wearing her thin and breaking down her strength. I fear for the worst, as do the doctors._

_I wish you would come home to see her. You should make right with her and say your goodbyes. Your cousins also need you here, Frank. They are doing poorly._

_You were always a good boy deep down. I know you’ll come home._

_Love, Bessy_

At first, Frank didn’t know what to think. He couldn’t truthfully say that he felt bad about his cousin’s death or his aunt’s state. He recognized that they were awful things, but they didn’t seem to be connected to him in any real way. Not like Brendon being attacked or Gerard nearly dying in a fire. Those things affected him deeply while the situation with his actual family was only vaguely upsetting, like when you hear a news story about someone dying. It’s sad, but not personal.

Then Frank felt guilty after considering things for a bit. They were his family, after all. He’d mostly forgiven them for wronging him. Maybe it would be cathartic to go and say goodbye to his aunt, anyway. They might even bond in the way that Frank had always wished for. Grief can do that to a situation.

If he did go to visit, though, he would have to take time off of work. He wasn’t sure that was even allowed, with the type of program he was in. He figured that they’d have to let him go, since it was a family emergency, but would he even have a job to come back to? He might not have a job in the near future, anyway, though, he reminded himself, what with the upcoming wedding. He might as well go see his aunt and if this is the end with Gerard then it’ll be like pulling the band-aid off in one go, rather than easing it off over the next few months, watching as Gerard falls deeper and deeper in love with someone who doesn’t deserve him.

Then there was the other issue of money. The way Frank’s program worked, Gerard paid him a regular wage which got deposited into an account that the school managed for him. It was his money, but he wasn’t supposed to use it until he was eighteen, so that he’d have some savings built up. Then he also got a small weekly stipend from Gerard, which he’d been using here and there for little things he didn’t need, like candy or new guitar picks. He’d actually given his last ten dollars to that fake psychic and he wasn’t due to be paid again for a few days. Even that wouldn’t be enough to get him to his aunt’s house and to cover whatever things he needed while he was there.

So, he was going to have to go and bother Gerard after all. First, to ask for time off and second, to ask for money. Great.

Frank found Gerard in the living room with Lindsey. They were looking at a large book of impressionist art which Frank had seen Gerard thumb through before. Lindsey wasn’t paying very close attention to the book, though, so she noticed Frank in the doorway first.

“Gee,” she said, annoyed and huffy. “I think that boy needs something.”

Gerard looked up. “What is it, Frank?”

“Um, sorry. Could I talk to you for a minute?” Frank asked, feeling uncomfortable for interrupting Gerard and his love interest.

Gerard nodded, eyes dropping down to the book again.

“Privately?” Frank clarified. That seemed to really bother Lindsey because she let out a really aggravated noise and told Gerard to “be quick”.

Frank moved back into the hall and towards the office next door and Gerard followed him in, pulling the door shut. “What’s wrong, Frank? You look nervous,” he observed.

“My cousin is dead and my aunt is dying. I got an email from Bessy, a woman who works for my aunt. She wants me to come and say goodbye, and well, help out my cousins, I guess,” Frank explained.

“Cousins? Aunt? Mrs. Fairfax said you didn’t have any family,” Gerard said suspiciously.

“Well, they’re hardly family. My mother’s brother’s wife and her children,” Frank explained. “They never cared for me, though, and got rid of me as soon as they could.”

“What, and now they expect you to drop everything and go visit them now that they need you?” Gerard exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous! Say you won’t!” Gerard crossed his arms and looked at Frank expectantly, obviously waiting for him to agree.

“I have to go, Gerard,” he said instead. “My uncle was kind to me when my parents died. I have to go for his sake, if nothing else.”

“Fine. Go for a few days, a week maybe,” Gerard offered, pouting a little.

“Well, it may take longer than that,” Frank said.

“Two weeks?” Gerard questioned.

“I don’t know! Maybe more. My aunt is dying. It isn’t a scheduled process. I should be there, however long they need me for,” Frank said, wishing it weren’t the truth. He didn’t entirely like the idea of spending that much time with his family. Or any time at all, really.

“What about, what about Bandit’s education?” Gerard demanded.

“I’m sure the school can send over someone while I’m gone, if it does take that long,” Frank said. “Regardless, he is doing a lot better. He’s not behind anymore. He’d probably be fine on his own.”

Gerard shook his head. “You’re good for him.” Then he sighed. “But your mind is made up, isn’t it? You’re going to leave us.”

“Just temporarily,” Frank clarified.

“Or so you say,” Gerard muttered, then continued. “All right. I’ll have Mrs. Fairfax call the school and explain the situation. When did you want to go?”

“Well, I should probably go right away,” Frank said.

“Oh, of course. Leave as soon as you can,” Gerard agreed sarcastically.

Frank rolled his eyes at Gerard, then got serious. “There’s something else.”

“God, what else? Do you have some distant godmother twice removed that needs your help, too?” Gerard quipped. Frank couldn’t help but smile.

“Well, I hate to ask. I really do. But, I don’t have any money for the trip, really, with the school holding onto it for me. Not that I’ll need much. But I should have some, I think, just in case,” Frank said quickly,  trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling he got asking Gerard for _more_ when he’d already given Frank so much.

“Oh, here,” Gerard said, reaching into his pocket to grab out his wallet. He handed Frank a credit card. Frank looked at it closely to find that it had his name on it, **Frank Iero** in clear black print. “I’d been meaning to give this to you,” Gerard explained.

“What is this?” Frank asked, still looking it over.

“Well, it’s linked to my personal account. So, if you need something, just charge it and I’ll take care of it,” Gerard explained.

“Gerard, I can’t take this,” Frank said, trying to hand it back. “That’s…too much.”

“It’s fine,” Gerard said. “I want you to have it. For emergencies, or just anything. Really, _anything_ , don’t be afraid to use it.”

“I can’t,” Frank said, still holding the card out to Gerard. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Please,” Gerard said, curling Frank’s fingers back around the card. “Let me take care of you, Frank. Maybe… maybe then you’ll come back to me,” he whispered.

Frank tried to take deep breaths. The air around him felt too thick and his chest felt swollen and heavy. “I’d come back,” he said quietly. “I’d come back no matter what.” He could feel Gerard’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t look up and meet them, for fear he’d say too much. He just stayed like that, trying to breathe and looking down at Gerard’s shoes until they weren’t there anymore and Frank was alone in the office.

* * *

 

Frank had been approved an indefinite amount of leave to attend to his family matters. Unsure of how long he really would be gone, Frank packed a large suitcase full of clothes, at least enough to last him a few weeks if he washed everything. He also packed a formal black outfit, assuming the worst for his bedridden aunt.

The next morning, Gerard arranged for one of his drivers to take Frank the several hours away to his aunt’s house. Frank had offered to take the bus, or something, but Gerard wouldn’t hear of Frank using _public transit_ , which he’d spat out in a disgusted tone.

Then Frank was on his way, back to the very place he’d hoped never to return. Thoughts kept popping into his head along the way, thoughts of his childhood, of Lenny, his only friend, of his uncle, the only kindness he’d been shown, and of his parents, the only real family he’d ever known. He realized that these thoughts didn’t hold true any longer, though. Brendon, regardless of whatever had happened, was his friend, as was Mrs. Fairfax and even Bandit, too. Gerard was his friend, however mysterious and changeable he was. Gerard had also shown him so much kindness and generosity that he hardly knew how to handle it. And all of them, in that house, had become his real family, just as much as his parents had been. He cared very much for them and knew he would miss them greatly while he was away.

Frank looked out the window and recognized his surroundings. They were almost to his aunt’s house – he could see the gate up ahead. His stomach twisted up and he tried to calm himself, noting that there was really nothing to fear. His tormentor, his cousin John, had passed, and his Aunt Reed posed no threat to him when she was dying in bed. His other cousins, Georgia and Elizabeth, had never felt very strongly about him one way or the other, and he was sure they had both matured with age, anyway.

The car pulled up to the house and the driver got out to help Frank carry his luggage inside. Bessy ran out before he’d even made it to the porch, though.

“Oh, Frank! I’m so very glad you’re here! Oh,” she sighed, enveloping him in a hug. “Let me take a look at you, all grown up now!” She held him by the shoulders and spun him around once. “Well, you look just as I expected.” Frank wasn’t sure what _that_ was supposed to mean but he tried to let it go.

“Bessy, it’s good to see you, too,” he smiled at her. “How are you?”

Bessy shooed away the driver and began to help Frank with his things. He watched as the man got back in the car and pulled away – he was really here to stay now.

“I’m all right,” Bessy had been saying as Frank was lost in thought. “Your aunt, however, is much worse off than even yesterday, I’m afraid. We’ll get you settled in and then I’ll let her know you’re here, okay?”

Frank nodded and followed Bessy inside and up the stairs. The grand house, though significantly less grand in comparison to Gerard’s mansion, was mostly just how he remembered it. The furniture was a bit more faded and worn, and the wallpaper a bit duller, but it was definitely “home”. Frank could practically feel a kick from John on his side and a taunt from his aunt in his ear, but he shook his head to clear it.

Thankfully, Bessy did not show him to his old room. He was given one of the guest rooms on the first floor. Bessy told him to rest for a while and then meet her in the kitchen for some lunch.

Frank spent a few minutes emptying his suitcase into the dresser and then kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the bed. He wasn’t tired, really, but he felt drained nonetheless. The atmosphere of the old house seeped into his skin and made him feel nervous and twitchy. He checked his messages ( _zero unread)_ for a few minutes, just continuously hitting the refresh button, but nothing appeared. He hadn’t actually expected any texts from anyone, though. Maybe from Mrs. Fairfax to see if he’d arrived, but she was probably still busy with the guests and the rest of her regular tasks. And who else was there – Gerard? Surely, he had more important things to do.

Frank got up and made his way into the kitchen, not even thinking about which way he needed to go. The blueprints of the house were etched into his mind, for better or for worse. Some happy memories, some peaceful, but many more sad times were carved into the walls. Frank traced his fingers lightly over the wallpaper as he walked, remembering but wishing he didn’t.

“All settled in, then?” Bessy smiled at him when he sat down across from her at the small staff table in the kitchen. She pushed a turkey sandwich towards him. Frank debated telling her that he didn’t really eat meat anymore, but decided it wasn’t a battle he wanted to fight. Besides, he was a guest and he didn’t want to make trouble. When he took a bite, he felt angry at himself for backing down, but it was already done.

“Is my aunt ready to see me?” he asked between mouthfuls.

Bessy folded and then unfolded her napkin, not meeting Frank’s eyes. “Well, the thing is, Frank, I didn’t actually tell her that I invited you here.”

Frank finished his sandwich and pushed the plate away. “Okay? What does that mean for me?” he questioned.

“Well, nothing, really. It’s fine that you stay here. You are, after all, still under your aunt’s guardianship officially. It’s just that,” Bessy paused.

“She doesn’t want to see me, does she?” Frank guessed quietly.

“Well, no. At least not right now,” Bessy hurried to add. “I imagine that once her illness progresses a bit more, she’ll start to think more clearly. As it is now, she still wants to hang onto old grudges.”

“Not that I ever did anything to her,” Frank said, trying to hide his anger. Bessy gave him a look, as if to disagree. “I didn’t, Bessy. I was a child. Whatever she claimed I did, I’m sure I didn’t mean it. She never liked me. Even before she knew me, she never liked me, because Uncle Reed did. I know that to be true.”

‘Yes, your uncle was fond of you, I remember,” Bessy nodded. “Mrs. Reed never appreciated that. You have to understand, though, she was just looking out for her own children. She wanted Mr. Reed to love them like he loved you.”

“Fine job of looking out for them she’s done,” Frank scowled, thinking of his cousin John.

Bessy glared at him. “John made his own choices, and those choices are driving your aunt into the grave. You’d better try to be kind, Frank, and considerate, for everyone’s sake. Things will go a lot smoother,” she admonished, getting up from the table and clearing the plates.

Frank rubbed his eyes hard with the heel of his hands. He felt himself settling into old ways already, after just an hour back at home. He needed to learn to control his feelings and to think before speaking. This was not the Way Mansion and the inhabitants here were not so understanding.


	17. Tell Me I'm a Bad Man, Kick Me Like a Stray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably won't be another update until the weekend, will do my best with school picking up again. please comment and let me know what you think of this chapter!

Frank had been at his aunt’s house for over a week and still she turned him away each time he asked to speak with her. It didn’t matter if she was feverish or calm, she recoiled at the sound of his name, and even her doctors agreed that it would only worsen her health if Frank were allowed in the room. Still, he was able to peer in at her from the hallway when she was asleep. The woman in his aunt’s bed was only a shell of a person, thin and pale white, stringy grey hairs curling limply around her face. Frank wondered at how someone so weak could hold grudges so strong.

He attempted to make himself useful around the house, still. He helped Bessy with errands if she asked, and sometimes even when she didn’t. He spent most of his days with his two cousins, though, passing the time chatting or just sitting, each wishing they were absolutely anywhere else.

“It’s such a _bummer_ that I’m missing all of these parties,” Georgia, who now went by Gigi, whined one afternoon. She’d become a very full-figured young woman, bordering on plump, and tended to spend most of her afternoons dramatically draped across the couch, or the lounge, or any other available surface.

Elizabeth, seated across the room and next to Frank, put her book down and turned to look at her sister. “Yes, what a shame. What an absolute tragedy you must be experiencing. I can hardly imagine the pain you must be in. I’m sure it in no way compares to that which our brother experienced, in his final hours, much less that of our mother, who lies dying as we speak,” she spat out, then relaxed back into her corner of the couch, removed the bookmark from her copy of _Daily Devotionals for Devoted Daughters, Volume VIII: Death and Dealing with a Dear One’s Demise_ and continued reading.

“You’re just jealous because you don’t get invited to parties,” Gigi smirked. Elizabeth continued reading, unphased, but Gigi didn’t seem to notice. “I get invited to so many parties, I can hardly go to them all. Of course, I make an effort, when I’m not _housebound_ , but I can’t be expected to make an appearance at every single one. There are only so many hours in the day!” she squealed, looking at Frank for a reaction, after realizing that Elizabeth wasn’t going to respond.

“That seems a very,” Frank said after a moment, “busy lifestyle. How do you balance it with school?”

“Oh, silly, I don’t go to classes. I have so many friends, that there’s always some boy or some girl who wants to write my papers for a chance to sit next to me at the next big event, whatever it is,” she replied, looking off into the distance, obviously reflecting on her popularity and its many perks.

Frank didn’t have a chance to comment before Elizabeth chimed in again. “I think that that is a very foolish decision which you will one day regret. Education can improve our lives and our minds. Even our cousin, Frank, who was bound for no great destiny, has at least a sensible job and the promise of a moderately comfortable future because he applied himself in school.”

Frank was mulling that one over as Elizabeth got up from the couch and walked over to her sister. “Here, take my devotional. It’d do you much good to read rather than idle on the couch, talking nonsense.” With that, she left the room.

Gigi rolled her eyes and tossed the book on the ground. Frank watched it land and splay open unnaturally and the bookworm in him cringed outwardly despite the books’ content. Gigi didn’t seem to notice. She never seemed to pick up on little things like others’ feelings, Frank had learned.

“Maybe,” she sighed. “Maybe I do talk about myself a little too much. But it’s only because Elizabeth never makes any conversation and anyone else I’m with only wants to talk about me, anyway.” She looted around in her purse for a nail file and began examining her fingers, file poised and ready.

“You could try to ask people questions when you’re talking to them,” Frank offered.

“Alright,” Gigi nodded. “What about you, then?”

“What about me?”

“I’m doing what you said. Asking you a question.” Gigi gave Frank a _duh_ look and worked on filing her left ring fingernail.

“Okay, but what do you want to know about me?” Frank clarified, but it became clear that Gigi had asked her one question, so Frank should just figure out the minor details on his own. “Well, I already told you that I tutor a boy-“

“Yeah. Boring,” Gigi sing-songed.

“His guardian is super rich,” Frank went on. “He lives in an actual mansion.”

“You live there, too, right?” Gigi asked finally, interest piqued.

“Well, yeah,” Frank said.

“I bet he throws lots of extravagant parties. Even I haven’t been to a party at a mansion, not unless you count the lake houses next town over, but I don’t. They’re overrated, if you ask me,” she puffed out her breath, continuing to work on her nails.

“He was actually throwing a party when I left to come here. He might be still, I guess.” Frank had only gotten a few texts here and there from Mrs. Fairfax over the past week. She never mentioned the guests, and Frank didn’t want to ask, but he could only assume they were still there.

“So you’re stuck here instead of at a party, too, huh?”

“Well, not really. I could leave, I guess. I wasn’t enjoying the party all that much, though,” Frank explained.

“I wouldn’t take such an experience for granted,” Gigi pouted.

“Gerard, that’s my boss, he’s only throwing it so he can win over this girl. Obviously, he’s already won her over, though, so I don’t know why he keeps it up,” Frank took a turn at picking at his own nails and Gigi tossed him her file, which might have been the nicest thing she’d done for Frank thus far.

“Is he ugly? Maybe he’s overcompensating, you know, showing off his wealth to make up for his lacking looks,” Gigi commented. “I knew a guy like that once. Money isn’t _always_ enough, though.”

“He’s _not_ ugly,” Frank snapped before he thought better of it.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Gigi grinned. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s not like that,” Frank said, straining to keep his voice even while his red cheeks betrayed him. Maybe Gigi wasn’t so dense, after all.

“Secret’s safe with me,” she shrugged, getting up and holding out her palm for the nail file. “Talking about you has been fun, but I’ve got some selfies to post. People need to know I’m still alive.”

\---

It seemed time was running out for Frank’s aunt. Over the next two weeks, doctors came by at least every other day, and an in-home nurse had begun keeping regular shifts at the house, making sure Mrs. Reed got regular doses of all her medications and was kept clean and as comfortable as possible.

She didn’t sound very comfortable, though. Her medication supposedly had a sedative effect, but Frank could still hear her moaning off and on through the night. The nurse told him it wasn’t from pain, just mental disturbance, but Frank figured that was just a different kind of pain.

One evening, when the nurse had gone home early and Bessy, Gigi, and Elizabeth had gone to a late church service, Frank heard his aunt cry out. Normally, he would have ignored it, not out of spite, but out of concern that his mere presence would only further upset her. However, since he was alone with her, he figured he should at least try to calm her.

When he got closer to her door, he began to make out words among her senseless wails. “Frank!” she shrieked. “God help me!” She still hadn’t allowed Frank to come in her room, but Frank considered that she might be having a change of heart now that her time was increasingly near.

“Aunt Reed?” he asked, pushing open her door and moving to stand by her bed. He found a washcloth in a basin of water on her dresser and wrung it out, then laid it on her sweaty forehead. She didn’t open her eyes, just reached her arms out in front of her.

“Who’s there? Who’s in my room?” she called.

“It’s me, Frank. You called for me, Aunt,” Frank said, sitting down on the side of her bed and grabbing her hands. She snatched them away.

“Frank,” she sputtered. “I knew a Frank. A nasty child. I hated him so,” she moaned, grasping at the covers with her hands, pulling them up around her further as if to protect herself from the memories.

Frank sighed. It was clear his aunt didn’t recognize him at this point in her illness. Maybe it was for the best.

“Why did you hate Frank?” he tried, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

“He punished me, day in and day out. I tried to love him, but he always looked at me with those eyes. Those knowing eyes. I never stood a chance!” she threw her arms over her face and whimpered. The damp washcloth slid off her head and onto the pillow.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to,” Frank said, retrieving the cloth and rewetting it.

“It doesn’t matter anymore!” she said angrily. “I got him back. I ruined his chances at a happy future and if he knew, I’m sure he’d try to kill me!”

“I don’t think I'd really need to,” Frank muttered under his breath and then scolded himself. “You didn’t ruin him, Aunt Reed. He’s just fine, with or without you,” he said, hoping it was somewhat comforting.

“No, I did something much worse. Oh, you won’t tell him, will you? Let me clear my conscience, but don’t tell him!” she sobbed. Frank was moved to see that she at least felt somewhat badly for whatever wrong she had committed.

“No, I won’t tell him. What did you do?” he prompted softly, keeping the curiosity out of his voice so as not to discourage her.

“His uncle, his father’s brother, wrote to me five years ago. He is a rich man now and he wanted to adopt Frank so as to pass on his fortune. He asked me where he could find Frank and I told him,” she paused to cough and Frank poured her a glass of water, hands shaking as he helped her sip it.

“What did you tell his uncle?” he asked once she was settled back against her pillows.

“I told him Frank had died in a fire. A school a few cities over had burned down just months before. I let him believe Frank had perished in it,” she said, voice becoming more hoarse with every word.

Frank was shocked. He knew his aunt had been cruel, but this was almost unbelievable. He had a chance at a family, an uncle who actually wanted him and his aunt told him he was dead. Frank closed his eyes and counted to ten but he was still seething at the end of it.

“Did you keep the letter? The letter that he sent you, asking for Frank?” he demanded.

His aunt made a noncommittal movement with her head and gestured towards her dresser. Frank rushed over to it and pulled open the top drawer. He rustled through some silk scarves and there, at the bottom, he pulled out a worn, folded enveloped addressed to **Frank Iero c/o Reed Family**. He turned to stare at his aunt.

“There,” she croaked between coughs. “You have what you want, leave me to die in peace.”

Frank did just that.


	18. I Know What I'll Do Just to Get Back in Your Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to have a really long chapter, but then it turned into a super long chapter that was going to take me forever to finish, so i just took a little bit of it and made it into this chapter. so. sorry it's short and ends kind of abruptly, hopefully it tides you over till i finish the next one. which i think everyone will really like. so stay tuned.

Mrs. Reed died two days later. She was cremated and a memorial service was held. The family decided not to have a full funeral service because, frankly, there just weren’t enough people interested in attending. Elizabeth had suggested it would be most practical to save on costs and have just a small gathering in their own home. Several distant relatives and the immediate family gathered in the living room around the urn containing what was left of Mrs. Reed. Cake and tea or coffee were served and no one had any particularly happy memories to share. Frank racked his brain but couldn’t come up with a single one to contribute, so he just said, “she was my aunt,” and nodded his head and then everyone nodded along.

After the service, Frank met with his aunt’s lawyer, who explained that because his guardian had died, he would either need to be assigned a new one or apply for emancipation. He explained that meant that Frank would be his own guardian, so long as he could prove to a judge that he had a job and a place to live that he could afford. The lawyer helped him fill out the paperwork and said he’d submit it and let Frank know if there were any problems, though he suspected it would all go very smoothly as Frank had been living just fine without his aunt for quite some time now.

The lawyer then met with Gigi and Elizabeth to help go over his aunt’s finances (she hadn’t left anything to Frank, of course) and Frank spent some time with Bessy folding up his aunt’s clothes to be donated and setting aside anything that her daughters might want to keep.

Frank still had the letter from his uncle in his pocket. Every time he changed his pants he’d slip it into the new pair. He hadn’t read it yet; he’d been too nervous. He wasn’t sure what he was nervous about, likely it was more the idea that he’d have to write back to his uncle and prove he wasn’t actually dead, just disowned, but nevertheless the letter remained unread.

After a while, he excused himself and went downstairs to the living room where Elizabeth and Gigi sat, glaring at each other from opposite sides.

“I have an announcement to make,” Elizabeth said formally, once Frank had sat down. “I will be leaving to join a group of women from church who have decided to start a Christian school in South America. I will probably not return for a very long time, if at all. Luckily, my half of the inheritance will fund my trip and any personal expenses I should have.” She nodded, as if that was the end of the conversation, and went back to the book she had in her lap.

“You can’t leave me here alone,” Gigi said, looking very close to tears already. “I don’t have anyone else. They’re all dead. We’re sisters! We have to stick together!”

Elizabeth set her book back down. Her expression was cold and it reminded Frank of his aunt. “I’ll be honest with you and not hold my tongue, as I have done many times before. I am leaving to be rid of you. You are annoying and immature, with your priorities entirely out of order. It is literally painful to even sit in the same room as you and I am ashamed to tell anyone we are sisters. If Frank wishes to stay here with you, he may, but I will be leaving tomorrow regardless of any pouting or pleading. I say these things not to hurt you, but in the hope that you will be awakened to your own shortcomings and will try to correct them. Maybe one day we will be reunited and things will be different, but, as they are now, I cannot stand you.”

Elizabeth stood and left the room and Frank ran out after her. He glanced back at Gigi, who stayed where she was, shocked and with tears welling up in her eyes.

“You can’t just leave her, Elizabeth,” he tried to reason with her cousin. “She’s only 19, and really she’s hardly that. She doesn’t have anyone to look out for her or make sure she does the right thing.”

“She’s an adult and if she chooses not to act like one, that’s hardly my responsibility,” Elizabeth chided. “As I said before, you may stay with her if you wish. Though, the house will be sold, so you’ll both have to find some other place,” she trailed off.

“I’m not going to stay with her,” Frank said, running his fingers through his hair and tugging a little, in frustration. “I just wish you would make sure she was settled before you ran off to do whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Missionary work is very important,” Elizabeth said. “Please don’t dismiss my calling. If you want to make sure she’s settled, then you make sure she’s settled. I have to pack. One of the girls is picking me up tomorrow. Please let Gigi know she’ll have to be out of the house by next Tuesday. That’s when the place is getting cleared out and the keys are being handed over to the realtor.”

Frank stared after Elizabeth as she went upstairs. She really was his aunt’s daughter.

Frank took a quick walk around the block to try to sort things out in his head. He should probably stay and help Gigi, at least for a couple of days, but he really wanted to get back home. He’d been away for nearly a month now and he couldn’t get the Way estate out of his mind. That wasn’t all he thought of, though. He pictured Gerard, his smile over a cup of coffee on a morning he didn’t have to run away somewhere. The way he’d catch Frank’s attention and fondly roll his eyes at something Mrs. Fairfax said. Even his awkward kindness towards Bandit made Frank’s heart fill up his chest. He wanted so, so badly to be home.

When he got back inside, Bessy was comforting Gigi. She saw Frank come in and beckoned him over.

“Frank, I think we should all have a chat. Now, I know your aunt didn’t leave you any money, but I think it would be nice if you stayed around a while, anyway. At least until the house is sold. That way your cousin will have someone with her,” Bessy nodded as she spoke, like she’d sorted everything out.

“No,” Frank said without hesitating. There wasn’t any harshness to his voice, but his answer sounded abrupt all the same. Bessy furrowed her brows and opened her mouth to say something, but Frank cut her off. “Look, Gigi, it’s been nice spending time with you,” Frank began, though that statement was debatable, “but I’ve got a life of my own. I’m sorry your sister is the way she is. I’m sorry you’re going to be on your own. I’ve been on my own for a long time and I know how that feels. You can manage, though. I’ll stay for another day and I’ll help you figure a few things out, like a place to live for starters, but I can’t keep giving up my life for this family.”

Frank half expected her to start to cry again or beg him to reconsider, but she just blotted her eyes with a tissue and nodded. “All right,” she said, clearing her throat. “I get it. You’ve got that guy to get back to, huh?” she gave him a smile, small but earnest.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “I do.”

* * *

 

The ride back home was only a couple of hours, but it felt like Frank was trapped in the car for days. The morning sun was shining brightly outside and Frank kept lowering his window down a few inches to let in the fresh air. It was a warm February day, much warmer than usual, and all the snow was melting down into scattered patches and piles.

Frank chatted excitedly with the driver, who was bearing it patiently. He nodded and smiled at everything Frank said, and updated Frank on how close they were without being asked.

Finally, they were on their road and Frank could see the house not too far in the distance. He bounced around impatiently in his seat.

“Can you let me out here? I want to walk the rest of the way. It’s so nice out, I can’t stand it,” Frank said, still squirming around.

The driver chuckled and pulled the car over. “All right. I’ll make sure your things get up to your room.”

Frank shot him a toothy grin and thanked him before getting out and slamming the door shut. He couldn’t help it – he just had so much energy. He bounded down the road, breathing hard but too happy to care.

Once he was almost in front of the house, he noticed there weren’t any extra cars parked outside. The party must be over, then, he thought. At least he could have the house to himself again, for a while. He took in the whole view: the large lawn of dead grass peaking through the leftover snow and ice, the cluster of pine trees off to one side of the house, green and inviting as ever, the house itself, practically beaming at Frank with its fifty window eyes, and Gerard standing in front of the house, waving at Frank with a big smile plastered on his face.

As soon as he saw him, Frank took off in a run towards him. He didn’t know he was going to do it, didn’t think about it all, but as soon as he reached him, Frank engulfed Gerard into a hug, tossing both his arms around Gerard’s neck and pulling him as close as two winter coats would allow.

Gerard wavered for just a second before hugging him back, and then he made up for it by somehow squeezing Frank even harder than Frank was squeezing him. “I guess you missed home?” Gerard asked, as he loosened his grip but didn’t move away.

Frank nodded against Gerard’s chest and ran his bare fingers along Gerard’s collar, petting the rough wool even though (or perhaps because) Gerard couldn’t feel it. Several stray hairs tickled his fingers and Frank tucked them beneath the collar. Before he could stop himself, he said, “Wherever you are, that’s home.”

He felt more than heard Gerard suck in a long breath, but Frank was already pulling away and moving towards the door. Whatever Gerard had to say, Frank couldn’t bear to hear it. He knew, he knew, he _knew_ it wasn’t like that between them. He didn’t need Gerard to let him down gently, or harshly, or however he’d do it.


	19. I’m Trying to Let You Know How Much You Mean to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry it took so long for this update. Trying to catch up with homework. I will try to update again soon. There will be some happy chapters next, I think. It is NOT done yet though. Maybe 10 more chapters? I don't know.   
> Please please please let me know what you think of this one. I tried to do the real version justice. It's so good. (For anyone who hasn't read the original it is free online and I'd really recommend it, it's a beautiful story!)

After Frank had eaten a late lunch and greeted Mrs. Fairfax and Bandit, who both hugged him so tight he couldn’t breathe, he went and walked around each floor, as if to say _hello_ to the house, _I’m back and I missed you_ , however silly it was. It didn’t matter, he thought, even as he quirked his lips up to laugh at himself, because he was home and it felt so good.

“I think I’ll take a walk,” he said to Mrs. Fairfax once he was downstairs again.

“Wear your jacket,” she scolded, but she couldn’t keep a stern face for more than two seconds without smiling. Frank knew she was glad he was back.

It was afternoon, now, on the verge of evening but it was still so warm that Frank didn’t think he really needed a jacket, but after walking around among the trees for a few minutes, he was glad he’d worn it. The air still nipped a bit at his ears and nose and he didn’t want to get sick again, so he pulled his hood up.

Frank was walking around the yard aimlessly, darting through the trees, when he noticed Gerard standing a ways off, near the stream that ran behind the house. Parts of the ice on top had melted and he could hear it babbling. Gerard was just staring at it intently. Frank thought he might be able to slip back inside without Gerard seeing him, as focused as he was. He still didn’t want to have that talk with him. He took a couple steps back towards the house.

“Frank, come look at this,” Gerard called, not turning around.

Frank let out a breath. So much for that, he thought, but he went over to stand next to Gerard.

“I guess the groundhog didn’t see its shadow,” Gerard commented once Frank had joined him.

“I think I saw on TV that it did, though. See it’s shadow, I mean,” Frank said, mostly just to have something to say.

“All the same,” Gerard nodded and started to walk along the creek. “Walk with me,” he said, telling more than asking.

They were silent as they walked. They reached a cluster of especially large pine trees and moved under them. There was a wrought iron bench underneath one of the trees and Gerard retrieved a glove from his pocket and used it to wipe the bench off, though it was mostly dry anyway. He sat down and motioned for Frank to join him. The silence continued and Frank became uneasy. He knew Gerard must have something to say, so he wished he’d just say it, instead of holding Frank in suspense.

“I suppose you’ll have to find another job, Frank,” Gerard said finally. He said it matter-of-factly and Frank swallowed hard.

“Why is that?” he said, trying to keep his own voice emotionless.

“Well, after I am married, I will probably send Bandit to school. A nicer one than you went to, but a boarding school nonetheless. It’ll just be easier that way, to ensure he gets everything he needs,” Gerard said, his tone still calm.

“I could still stay and work with him. I’d, I’d keep him out of the way,” Frank offered quietly. He didn’t want to argue, but he felt he had to or he’d lose everything.

“No, Frank, it’s decided. That’s not to say I won’t be sorry to see you go,” he continued. “But, sometimes things must change, for better or for worse.”

Frank only nodded. He was worried he might throw up. “I guess I’ll call the school then, on Monday.”

“Oh, no, no, that won’t be necessary. I’ll get it all worked out. I’ve actually found another position for you myself. A friend of mine, Deborah, has two little boys, just a bit younger than Bandit, and she’s very much in need of your services,” Gerard said, looking at Frank to make sure he was listening still.

“Okay,” Frank said, feeling overwhelmed. He couldn’t process this right now.

“The only thing is, and I hope you won’t be too upset, but it is quite far from here. I know you’re used to the east coast, Frank. Deborah lives in Southern California. I know what you’re thinking. It _is_ very far, but it’s so nice, there. I’ve been very careful to find you a place that will suite you, Frank, and I think the warm weather will do you good, put some color in your skin. Maybe you won’t get so sick all the time,” Gerard said almost cheerfully.

“It’s across the country!” Frank exclaimed, standing up to look at Gerard head-on. “How could you think that I’d be okay with it?”

“Frank, don’t be unreasonable,” Gerard soothed. “Your aunt is dead. You don’t have any ties to Jersey, anymore.”

“How could you _say_ that?” Frank cried out. He was so angry and so hurt and the emotion of it all was coursing through his veins, his heart pumping agony as much as blood. “Don’t you know I’ll miss Bandit? And Mrs. Fairfax? Don’t you know – don’t you know I’ll miss _you_!?” Hot tears began to roll down Frank’s cheeks, but nothing could be done to save his dignity at this point.

Gerard just stared at him with a blank look that Frank couldn’t decipher. After a moment, Frank began to breathe more evenly and Gerard dropped his gaze.

“Sometimes, Frank, I have a queer feeling with regard to you. I feel as though you and I are connected, like we’ve got a little string stretched between our chests. One end is tied to my ribs and the other to yours, like so,” Gerard said, touching his finger to his own stomach and then to Frank’s. “I think that if we were separated by such a distance, the string would snap and I might bleed internally from it.” Gerard paused for a breath. “You, on the other hand – you’d forget me almost immediately.”

“I could never-“ Frank began, but he did not finish his sentence and instead started to cry again, any composure he’d gained lost once more. “I wish that – you make me wish that I’d never even been born. To say things like that to me,” he finally managed.

“Ah, because you are sorry to leave this place?” Gerard nodded.

“Of course I am! You don’t know the life I had before I came here. I had nothing and no one. My one friend was taken from me. I was a shell of a person, surviving but not experiencing life. I didn’t even know I could feel the things I’ve felt since I’ve been here. Here, I’ve been treated as an equal. Here, people like me and want me. I’ve never belonged somewhere before,” Frank said, talking in shuddery breaths in between sobs. “I hate that I have to leave you. I’ve never known someone like you before. I know that I have to leave you soon and it feels like a death sentence. I never want to be apart from you.” Frank looked down, ashamed to have said his feelings so clearly, but he was through with holding them back.

Gerard put his hand on Frank’s shoulder firmly. “Why do you need to leave me, Frank?” he asked urgently.

“You said yourself I have to go,” Frank said, wiping his nose on his coat sleeve.

“But why should you go, Frank?” Gerard asked again.

“Well, because you’ll get married and you won’t want me here anymore,” Frank said, slightly annoyed to be reiterating something Gerard himself had said.

“I have no bride,” Gerard said slowly, looking at Frank intensely.

“Of course you do,” Frank said, louder, shrugging Gerard’s hand off of his shoulder. “Lindsey is your bride. Or will be. You’ll marry her and I will have to leave!”

“Frank, you can’t leave. You have to stay here with me,” Gerard said, attempting to pull Frank towards him.

Frank wriggled out of his grasp and stood up to face Gerard. “You think I’ll just stay and watch it happen? You think that I can bear it? To be nothing to you? It’s like you don’t even think I’m a person, then. I’m sorry that I’m not rich or older or a girl or anything that you could possibly be interested in, but I’m still a human being. I can’t stay! I thought I could once but I know now that I can’t.”

“Where will you go then Frank?” Gerard asked, reaching out and taking Frank’s hands in his own. “To California?”

Frank tried to pull his hands away but Gerard hung on tightly to them. “To California, to anywhere. I said what was on my mind and now I am free.”

Gerard stood up and tugged Frank into his arms. “Frank,” he breathed softly against Frank’s neck.

Frank managed to get his hands up on Gerard’s chest and pushed him back. He didn’t shove hard, but Gerard let him go easily nonetheless. “Let go of me,” Frank said. “I am a free person and I can do what I want. Not even my aunt controls me now. I am entirely my own!”

Gerard smiled at him. “Of course you can do what you want, Frankie,” he said quietly, and then, after a moment, “Do you want to marry me?”

Frank scoffed. “So now I’m a joke to you? I should have known better than to ever trust you!”

“I’m not joking,” Gerard said, looking down at Frank. He took a step towards him so that they were chest to chest again, though he didn’t try to embrace him. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You already picked Lindsey,” Frank said, beginning to cry again.

“Shh,” Gerard comforted and pulled Frank to him finally. Frank let himself cling and be held. “I haven’t picked her. I’ve picked you. It’s always been you I wanted, Frank.”

“I don’t believe you,” Frank said into Gerard’s jacket.

“Not at all?” Gerard asked, pressing a kiss to Frank’s hair, then down to his ear.

“Not at all,” Frank agreed shakily.

“Frank,” Gerard went on, “I could never love Lindsey. You’ve met her, Frank. She’s not even a pleasant person to be around, why on earth would I? And that’s besides the fact that I’m gay, Frank. There was never a chance. Especially not when I could have you.”

“You’re being serious?” Frank asked finally, head tucked between Gerard’s shoulder and neck. “You want to marry me?”

“Of course I do. We can wait, until you’re older, or until you’re sure you want to. It doesn’t matter how long. But I’d give anything to be able to spend forever with you, Frank. Anything.” Gerard brought his hand up to Frank’s face and prodded it upwards until he was able to look in his eyes. “Look at me, Frank. You know I mean it, don’t you?”

Frank still almost didn’t believe him, but when he saw Gerard’s face he saw an earnest quality that he had rarely seen before. Gerard looked so vulnerable and so – so young, Frank realized. For the first time, he didn’t seem so weighed down by life. Frank wondered if it was because of him. “Yes, I know,” he answered.

“Then will you marry me, Frank? One day?” Gerard asked, a smile stretching over his face.

“Yes,” Frank said, and he could feel his own lips curling upwards to match Gerard’s. “Yes, Gerard.”

They continued to stare at each other, smiling, for a long moment before Gerard leaned down so their faces were just an inch apart, noses almost brushing together. Frank licked his lips instinctively and leaned in slightly closer, so that he could feel Gerard’s breath on his face, but they weren’t touching yet.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I first saw you,” Gerard whispered to him, moving his hand to the back of Frank’s neck and grasping lightly. “I didn’t know how I’d manage it, but then you said you worked here, for me, of all people. I knew I’d have to have you.”

Frank ran his hands up Gerard’s chest. “I’m entirely yours,” he whispered back.

Gerard kissed along Frank’s jawline gently, down towards his neck until Frank was practically shaking. “Are you happy, Frank?” he asked as he pulled back to look in Frank’s eyes.

“Yes,” Frank said without hesitation.

“Then God will forgive me,” he said, quietly enough that Frank could hardly make it out, and then he leaned down and finally caught Frank’s lips with his own.


End file.
